The Cold Journey
by Divinion
Summary: Dedication, obsession and desperation will pull them together and tear them apart. Ur will not watch a child abandoned and unloved, no matter how broken they are. The origin story of Ur, Lyon and Gray.
1. Ur Finds Lyon

**Hey Fairy Tail Fans!**

 **Welcome to my most recent story/saga/whatever. This was supposed to be a one-shot. Then it turned into a two-shot. Now it's looking as a three-shot but I'm not convinced it won't end up spreading even further out, we'll see!**

 **The story begins a few months not long after Ultear has 'died' and also has a few references to Ice Trail. While I don't consider this as canon (or, you know, good), I quite like a couple of the ideas mostly around Guildarts. Also, there's some serious headcanons going on here. Take em or leave em. Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **Ur Finds Lyon**

In the furthest corners of Isvan it felt as if the winter never slept. The sun barely rose for more than a few short hours in the day and the country was veering onto its worst weather, the clouds filling with heavy darkness that threatened to break into a dangerous whitewash at a moment's notice. Luckily, this was one of the few places within the land that could easily stand the impending weather changes. The constantly shifting landscapes forced the towns and villages to adapt and relocate often, but this town had remained for over three generations and that had been more than enough time to create a warming atmosphere. It was one of the few towns that actually earned its place on the map with sturdy stone walls on every building and even cobblestone streets, marking it as a clear meeting point and crossroads for passing travellers.

Wanderers and adventurers were far from rare in the far Eastern land, but few had come from as far as Fiore. This had not been Guildart's first visit to the quiet and cold town, nor had it been his first time meeting with the beautiful dark haired Ice Maker. The pair had been speaking for hours, ignoring as the sun and sank low and close to the horizon, lining the black clouds with a blood red edge before its final decent into darkness. Time passed slowly they conversed, but this time Ur struggled to pretend that she was the still the same woman since their last encounter. She shrugged her shoulders and tried to laugh at his jokes and horrific flirting, but the time since they had separated had not been kind to her and she reluctantly admitted her defeat.

"What do you mean you quit?" Guildarts asked, almost too surprised to take the next sip of his warming liquid.

"I mean I quit. I'm out, I'm done, no more magic," Ur said awkwardly, running a hand through her short black hair. "I don't care what kind of adventures you want to offer this time, Guildarts, I don't want to be a part of them or anything more to do with magic or missions or your little guild," she clarified, cutting off his next predicted words. While her town was a perfect and convenient pit stop for any wanderer, she knew that he wasn't here because of the cheap alcohol and ambiance. Any other time she would havhse gladly jumped at the chance to join him in another of his wild adventures, but this time her mind was made up. She was giving up magic.

Guildarts continued to stare at the young woman in disbelief. He took a look around himself, seeing that the entire bar had remained oblivious and murmuring as normal despite how loudly she had proclaimed her decision. Even a foreigner like Guildarts knew that Ur's power had a reputation that covered the land, but no one turned or questioned her announcement. It was a claim she had been making for some time. "You can't just _quit_ …" he said slowly, lowering the empty glass.

"Watch me," she challenged, standing and picking up the empty glasses that he had accumulated. He had clearly been drinking since long before Ur had found him in the bar, no doubt with his eyes on some new unsuspecting woman that he could sweep of her feet. Ur could only roll her eyes as she gestured to the server to get them both the same again. "You know that alcohol is dangerous in the cold, Westerner," Ur warned him as she leaned back against the bar. "It may make you feel warmer but it lowers your body temperature. And as always, you're not dressed for the cold," she remarked.

He chuckled to himself, giving Ur an appreciating look across her curved body. "You're not exactly dressed for the cold either."

"The cold doesn't bother me," she smirked, though she was well aware he already knew that. Picking up the two refilled glasses she had to resist the urge to throw one of them in his face and to tell him to stop undressing her with his eyes. There was something that she both hated and desired about his glance, a look that no man had given her for a long time which only conjured more complicated emotions.

He slipped his own whiskey glass back into his hand, leaning closer. "How strange. Guess it couldn't be your magic keeping you warm anymore, hm?" he teased. Seeing the expression he had seen many times just before getting slapped across the face, he quickly leaned back again, confidently pulling his hands behind his head. "All I'm saying is that your magic is a part of you. You can't just give it up." He sighed. "Gramps sure is gonna be disappointed…"

She blinked, suddenly forgetting her earlier instincts to throttle him. "Your master?" she questioned.

He grinned to himself. Ur couldn't stop herself from feeling the pull of curiosity any more than he could resist the pull to a beautiful woman. "Oh yeah, he seemed really excited, is all. See, he's heard all about you. You've built up quite a reputation even out here in the middle of nowhere, and those last couple of missions where you helped our guild out… Well, he thinks that we need an Ice Maker like you in Fairy Tail."

Ur put the glass to her lips, using her beverage to remain in silence. Guilds simply weren't practical in the coldest reaches of the world. Mages were far less influential as everyone here had their own survival skills and although the same scavengers and bandits existed on these roads as they did in the west, people did not travel if they could not defend themselves, especially with the growing demon attacks that had been on everyone's mind. The towns were so sparse and few between, any guild would struggle to be strong enough to stand on its own two feet and keep enough members or missions to survive. As Guildarts said, they were truly in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't that guilds didn't exist in the East, but here they meant something very different, and Ur and Guildarts had spent most of their missions together taking them down. The Ice Maker couldn't deny that when she had last seen the S-Class wizard and heard him feverishly defending his home and comrades – nakama, as he had called them - she had felt the pull towards Fairy Tail, but there had always been one very special reason she could not leave her home. Now that reason was gone.

Eventually, she turned away, her eyes cold as she told him "I'll be sure to pass on the invitation, Guildarts, but that life simply isn't me," with a shrug, pulling on her glass and tipping remaining drink into her mouth. She swallowed hard, the amber liquid burning the back of her throat. Biting back the strong taste, she grabbed her jacket and threw it over her shoulders.

It was clear that tall wizard was a little disappointed, though it was hard to tell if this was due to her refusal of the guild or the fact that he hadn't been offered a place in her bed. "I'll be coming back this way after I've finished my mission," he responded lazily, watching her prepare to leave. "Give it a week to think it over."

"I don't need a week; I told you already that I've quit," she waved him off as she stepped back to the doorway. As the door opened, she could feel the shifting air, the wind biting against her skin even through the aura of crisp ice power. Snow hung in the clouds high above and the first droplets were beginning to fall to the ground while her home was still almost two miles away. She pushed her hands deep into her pockets, knowing that she had stayed with her old friend longer than intended and it would be far safer to stay here for the night. She shook the idea out of her head, stepping out of the door and wishing Guildarts the best of luck in his mission.

No matter how cold the snow was, at least she could feel safe within its arms. Unlike the Fairy Tail mage.

She began her long walk home, offering small smiles, nods and dismissals of concerns to the citizens of her small neighbouring town. Eventually the faces grew further apart, the doorways shut and the snow became heavier. Buildings changed into trees and eventually mountains but she walked the familiar path undeterred, bowing her head as the winds grew stronger and wilder.

As the cold struck harder, she couldn't help but wonder what a warmer country would be like. She had never found anything but comfort from the iced terrain but even the ice maker couldn't deny there was something wonderful about a warm jacket, hot chocolate or a scolding bath. There was something enticing about the feeling of contrasting temperatures and her eyes began to glitter as she imagined creating ice rose bushes next to blossoming roses. The flowers that grew in this land were few and far between, which was one of the reasons why she had always been so fascinated by their outstanding beauty and crafted so many of her moulds to their shapes.

Her husband had once bought her roses from a distant land. She kept them preserved in ice.

But the magic that preserved her beautiful flowers was also the magic that had brought her heartache and pain. It was the magic that had stolen her daughter's life.

Her tears became droplets of snow. Without even realising, her footsteps had slowed to almost a stop, struggling to find the strength to push through the whistling winds. Only her instincts knew the direction home now, unable to see anything through the blinding white blizzard that surrounded her and entrapped her senses. It was foolish for her to have left the village but she had always known that she couldn't bring herself to stay in the same place as Guildarts, even if they were supposedly friends. There had been too much history between the pair, both good and bad, painful and pleasant, but if she was throwing away her world of magic, that would include him.

The blizzard had made it almost impossible to hear the noise. The thick white snow made it hard to see the white silhouette moving before her. She took several steps forwards, trying desperately to adjust to the battling elements. "Is someone there?" she called sharply, not knowing anyone else who would be foolish enough to travel so far from civilisation during the wild weather.

Finally, the boy stepped close enough to be seen. His hair was white as the snow that consumed them, eyes wide and glazed as they stared back at Ur. His clothing, skin and hair were all so pale that he blended into the storm almost completely unnoticed and even when standing only two feet from the Ice Maker he was barely visible. The bright red streak of blood running down his forehead caught her attention. Slowly, he stepped forward, a shallow sigh of relief on his lips before falling to his knees.

Ur rushed forwards, dropping to her own knees as she instinctively wrapped her arms around him. This boy was no older than eight, no older than Ultear would have been. The Ice Maker could not stop her heart beating terrifyingly fast as all protective and motherly instincts pushed through her veins painfully, feeling the chill from his skin. "Where are your parents?" she asked him quickly, looking around and realising instantly that it was impossible. Even if they had been standing right in front of her she would be blind in the blistering storm. Regardless, she called as loudly as she could, pulling him close to her chest and trying to push onto him what little warmth her icy body held. "Has anyone lost their child?"

The wind offered no answer. She cursed, pulling off her jacket and instead wrapping it around the white-haired boy. He didn't seem to respond to her, eyes still vacant and dazed, barely moving even to shiver. Although she believed his parents couldn't have been far, she didn't dare let him stay another moment in the frozen wasteland, yanking him violently to his feet and pulling him close, forcing him to step forwards until they could see the light of her home.

It took far longer than she had expected to find her dwelling, certain that they had gone in circles more than once, but once they finally caught sight of the small cabin she could feel her heart jump. Although she didn't feel the cold like others, even Ur understood the danger of letting her body temperature drop and the white-haired child still wore her jacket. She could still feel the cold through the fingers which held him in place and had absolutely no intention of taking the clothing back, but she was suffering for her generosity. "This way," she murmured, sliding off the locks and pushing open the sturdy wooden door.

The storm was silenced as she slammed the doorway shut once more, pushing heavy beams across to prevent the hurricane winds pushing it back open. Once safely inside, she breathed a heavy sigh, already feeling the warmth filling her soul and instantly relieved by the static air. Even without the biting cold, she had felt her strength ebbing away as she fought against the gales and hated to think how exhausted the child must have been. She didn't give herself time to think about this, however, quickly rushing to the far side of the room and pushing several logs into the firepit. Holding a tiny lacrima in her hands, she hovered it above the new kindling. "Oh come on…" she hissed angrily at the fire magic, not for the first time, before the lacrima sparkled to life and began to drop tiny beads of flames into the piles of wood. It wasn't often that Ur needed a real fire, but then it wasn't often she had company. Slowly she turned back to the young boy, realising that he had not moved from the spot that she had placed him in and that he was staring wide eyed at every book, trinket, picture, and blanket across her home with the same glazed expression. Her mouth twisted awkwardly, once again feeling the pain of loss in her chest as she stared at the young boy. The faster she found his parents the better.

Now that she had the fire prepared, Ur put her hands into his and tried to feel his temperature. Even through her own freezing hands, she could feel he was dangerously cold and didn't hesitate to lead him closer to the fire, lowering them both to sit. She examined the blood on his forehead and squeezed his hands gently, deciding that his temperature was the biggest concern of the two. "What's your name?" she asked him softly, reaching into the jacket still hung over his shoulders and pulling a pair of gloves out of her pocket.

The boy looked almost surprised, as if gently waking from a trance. "Lyon… Lyon Vastia…" he said, his dry lips cracking as he spoke.

She smiled to him, unravelling the gloves and one by one placing them over his hands. "Well, Lyon Vastia, you're very lucky that I found you. The cold can be incredibly dangerous. You shouldn't have been out in that weather, you know," she scolded, though her voice was tender. "Now, do you like hot chocolate?" she asked, rising back to her feet, knowing that a hot drink would be the best cure to the potential hypothermia, while chocolate was a bonus no child could refuse.

He didn't answer her question. Lyon's eyes finally rested on hers, a flicker of conscious thought burning inside. "Are you Ur Milkovich?" he asked suddenly.

Ur paused, the silence consuming the room. She took a small step back, surprised to be recognised so easily but finding herself growing angry as she realised just how quickly she had presumed this boy was caught in her path by sheer coincidence. Her small cabin was the only sign of life for miles around and only now she realised that he must have been purposefully searching for her in the storm. A hand fell on her hip, a frown across her face. "Did Guildarts put you up to this?" she accused him.

Lyon's head tilted slightly to the side. "Guildarts?"

Ur rolled her eyes, stepping over to the kitchen and trying to keep her hands from shaking in anger. She kept herself busy by pulling out drinking chocolate, pans, mugs and any other ingredients she could find to make her creation perfect. "Of course, he would try and pull some crap like this. Convince me that I still wanted to protect people. Who knows, maybe you're yet another of his abandoned illegitimate children," she cursed under her breath, almost forgetting that the young boy could still hear her ranting as she slammed the pan back onto the floor in front of the fireplace. "As if I can't be happy here by myself. Or maybe it was Joanne? Was it Joanne? She is constantly trying to push me…" she hissed to herself, putting the ingredients all into the pan and pushing it onto the holder with a loud clunk.

The boy flinched with every clang of metal, every curse and angry movement from the Ice Maker. When she eventually stopped, his eyes were pinned to the door, clearly debating between the storm that had almost killed him or the woman that he had searched for. There was a resilience in his eyes, however, one that she saw as soon he turned back to her. "I need you to teach me. You're the strongest mage, aren't you?" he told her.

She let out an awkward laugh, shaking her head. "Kid… you've got the wrong woman," she stuttered.

Disappointment crossed his face as his eyes once more slid down. "You're not Ur Milkovich?" he whispered.

The dark-haired woman bit her lip, looking at the boy with more curiosity. White hair was incredibly rare across Earthland but in a place where most of the locals had jet black hair like Ur's own, it was incredibly striking. He clearly wasn't local, though there was some familiarity that she couldn't place. "I…" she hesitated, looking back to the hot chocolate heating quickly on the fire. "That is my name, yes. But that isn't who I am anymore," she said reluctantly, not able to meet his surprisingly sharp gaze. "I'm not a wizard, I've given it up. And I don't care what you say or do to try and convince me, I'm not going back to it. You'll have to find another teacher."

"But you're the best, aren't you?" Lyon pressed, leaning forwards slightly.

"Aren't you listening to me? I said I quit!" she snapped, glaring back at him.

The boy backed away quickly, staring at her with wide eyes and staying very still and silent.

The glare washed away from Ur's face, her own eyes widened slightly as she realised that he was terrified of her even without her magic, more terrified than a child ever should have been of an adult. She turned quickly back to the hot chocolate, mind running so quickly she couldn't think consciously but knowing only that she needed to give the child something sweet as quickly as possible. "Kid… Lyon… I'm sorry I can't teach you. You really do need to find someone else," she said as softly as she could.

Ur had expected him to flinch away again, to look afraid and to look as if ready to run straight to the door, but there was something unexpectedly strong inside of him. The determination was clear in his eyes as he even dared to come closer once again, dared to speak up even with his cracked and bleeding lips, and even while his muscles ached and were frozen solid he held himself up tall. "It has to be you. You are the strongest, I have to learn from you."

It hurt to reject him. It hurt to turn her back on her own magic, however, but the loss of her daughter was more than she could bare. Every spell she cast and every time she felt the wonderful energy she remembered the feeling emanating from her small, sweet girl. She turned back to the pan, pulling it from the stove and pouring the two mugs for herself and the young guest. "Your parents will be worried about you," she commented, watching his reactions carefully. "As soon as the storm lifts we can find them together."

Lyon looked at the mug that she was placing in front of him warily but the cold obviously prevailed over his caution as he quickly pulled it into his hands, struggling to balance the cup through Ur's oversized mittens. He looked up at her, protectively holding onto his new beverage and eventually realised that she wasn't looking directly at him but at his forehead.

"The cold has stopped your head from bleeding, I think…" Ur noticed with a frown, taking the pan back off the fire and going to the kitchen to replace the chocolate with water. "It can't be too deep, in that case. Head wounds can just bleed a lot, but I don't think it'll leave a scar," she shrugged, sucking off the last of the hot chocolate that had spilt onto her thumb. "Still, I don't want to take any chances. We'll get it dressed and let you rest, then in the morning we can go and find your parents," she pressed again, obviously displeased he hadn't responded to her the first time.

He looked back at the drink, obviously fighting the urge to pour the entire mug of boiling liquid down his throat at once. "I can't go back to them," he murmured. "Not until you've trained me."

"Kid, I've already explained-"

"You have to," he hissed, the determination that had been set in his eyes suddenly blurring into a dangerous anger. Ur was surprised, not only to see the strength but to see the raw emotion from such a young age.

She sighed again, walking back to the fire and letting the water warm this time as she pulled an old towel over her shoulders. She knew that this would continue to go around in circles but she was determined not to let herself give up on her decision so easily. "Where do you come from?" Lyon turned away. "Hm? You're clearly not from around here, so tell me where you grew up. Tell me where is your home, your family, your friends…" Ur leaned back, folding her legs as she stretched lazily. He continued to say nothing. "Alright, fine, if you want to play like that… if you tell me where you're from I'll give you an extra marshmallow."

Lyon's eyes went wider.

She grinned, pulling out a hidden packet and opening it. "Are you from a town? Or one of the cities? The West, maybe?"

The boy seemed torn but the promise of sugar was overpowering. "…Kilarcky," he said finally, reaching for the bag.

Ur pulled it back, looking at him quizzically. "Kilarcky? That isn't a town, that's an ancient ruin."

He frowned, clearly feeling cheated by the sudden change of rules. "I've told you, that's where I'm from!" he snapped, trying to make a lunge for bag.

"Hey! Didn't anyone ever teach you any manners?!" she yelled, holding him back with one hand on his shoulder as she held the bag far away with the other. "Back off and I'll give you one, brat!"

He sighed angrily, throwing his arms across his chest and sulking. He almost looked surprised when she dropped the promised marshmallow into his drink, and nodded stiffly as she added an extra one.

"OK, OK, Kilarcky…" she said, running a hand through her hair as she made her plans. "That's three days' walk from here…" she thought aloud, looking back at the boy and realising the hell that he had been through in order to turn up at her doorstep. She knew without a doubt that he was far from home, far from his family and friends, but he clearly had no intention of returning yet. With the look of determination in his eyes Ur knew he wouldn't leave until she or perhaps someone crueller promised to teach him, and she wanted nothing more than to return the child to his parents.

Every child should have the chance to return to their parents.

She swallowed hard, pulling the pan once more from the fire and slowly dipping the towel into the warm water. "Three days, once the storm passes…" she murmured to herself again, gently reaching up to him.

He flinched away from her once again, but she made no attempt to move closer or further away from him. He looked between her eyes and the towel, slowly realising that she was trying to clean the wound across his forehead and he gritted his teeth tightly together, hesitantly leaning closer. Gently, without mentioning the trusting gesture, she reached forwards and began to slowly dab away the frozen blood.

"I'm willing to make you a deal, Lyon Vastia," she said, barely able to believe she was uttering the words. "I will take you back to your parents, BUT-" she quickly halted his protests, her eyes sharp and steadily looking back to his, "If you promise to lead us straight back to your parents, on the way there I will teach you as much as I can. Do we have a deal?" she asked, throwing out the words before she could regret them and change her mind. She wanted to protect him, her heart aching just looking at the lost boy. There was nothing in the world that could stop her from her new quest to return him to his home even though she knew nothing about him. She was still oblivious to his motives or his parents but already she held an image of a terrified couple waiting for their young boy to return and feeling the same fears she had felt so recently. If anything had happened to him and she hadn't cared for him, she simply wouldn't have been able to forgive herself.

Lyon was calculating, but it was obvious he had limited options. The woman before him was seemingly being kind, washing his wounds and taking him in from the cold but while she was offering such a limited thread of what he clearly needed the struggle was real. It was better than nothing, as they both knew, and he nodded cautiously. "I promise you I will be your best student," he whispered.

She only laughed. "You will, because you'll be my _only_ student!" She dropped the towel back into the water, pulling out a small sticky bandage from her box and placing it across his forehead. "You'll have to learn very fast, though. Ice Make magic takes a long time to learn and a lifetime to perfect. Not everyone is capable or creative enough to wield it well. It will be a challenge and you may not achieve what you think you need."

Lyon's eyes faded but as Ur pulled back he gave a short nod. "I understand," he said. "But I have to try. I have to be the very best."

"That's quite some goal," she commented lightly, pulling together the last of her things and once more standing to put them back. "Aspirations make us stronger, don't give up on that goal if it's something you believe in. Now drink your hot chocolate, you can help me set up a spare bed. We have a long day tomorrow."

The young boy nodded sharply and took his first sip of the warming drink, quickly guzzling down the rest in his excitement at the taste. Ur watched him as he became distracted, trying to decide if she could trust him. The promise to teach him was on the pretence that they would go straight to his home but the only information he had given about himself was the mention of the ruins. It had been many years since Ur had travelled so far east so it was possible that a camp or travelling group had made a more permeant dwelling within the abandoned civilisation. It wasn't so unheard of for people to create and disband entire towns within the space of a single season, as the changing weather could quickly make lands inhospitable while others became more rich in the much needed resources, alongside the growing number of demons scattered through the lands the maps of Isvan were changing faster than ever. It also could have been a lie, however, and he could be leading her to the middle of nowhere on a wild goose chase. The one thing that she knew she could believe was that they needed each other. He needed to be taught by her, though for what reason she couldn't guess and she needed to return the child to his parents. She needed it more than she could admit to herself.

They pulled together blankets and pillows, ignoring the closed door of Ultear's bedroom but also ignoring Ur's own bedroom. Ur decided that she didn't dare let Lyon out of her sight yet even after their deal had been struck and he had been far too cold for her to take him away from the warmth of the fireside. She couldn't deny that she was amazed at how quickly the colour was returning back to his cheeks, however, and once again she felt her burning curiosity as to how far his body could bend to the cold. It was a clear sign of a talented potential Ice Maker, but it also offered her the assurance that he was at least clearly from the cold continent despite his vivid white hair.

Eventually the final log was placed on the fire and they both sleep to the sound of storms rattling the wooden cabin.

The fire had long since burned out when Ur woke the next morning. She blinked awake, eyes slowly focussing on the empty pile of blankets where Lyon had slept. Her eyes flew open wide, cursing herself and panicking even before she had fully woken. Her heart didn't even have time to race however, as she saw the strange young boy in the corner of the room, wide awake and sat cross-legged on the floor. One of her largest books was rested against his knees, his sharp eyes glancing through the pages with intense attention to detail as he held onto the next page ready to soak in yet more of his potential knowledge.

Ur sighed in relief seeing he was still there, standing up as quietly as she could. Her own daughter had also been a keen reader. Ultear had spent hours upon hours pouring herself over these books, no doubt able to repeat any of them back at a moment's notice from an incredibly young age. It had been nearly a year since the girl had skimmed these pages, before the fevers began, before Ur feared for her life and took her to the only support that she could find. Even they hadn't been able to help her in the end.

Ur's hand fell on Lyon's forehead, feeling his temperature was once again back to normal. He didn't take his eyes from the pages as she did so and she found herself skimming across the same words he read. A frown appeared on her face as she saw the most dangerous of Ice Maker spells laid out before him and gently she pulled the book from his hands and closed it in front of him. "This is a little too advanced for you just yet," she warned him, slipping it back into the shelf and pulling out a far smaller book instead. She placed the new one back into his hand and he opened it, glancing between her and the pages. "Try this one instead," she urged him.

He turned back to the tome, skimming through its entirety page by page before turning back to the beginning. "I want to know them all," he told her, glancing back to the book he had only half completed.

She nodded. "I know you do," she said kindly. "But maybe not that one just yet. You have to master the basics first," she advised him, both afraid and impressed by his eagerness. Ur had been a dutiful student in her own youth, studying because it had genuinely inspired her, but she had never felt his passion to be the best. She only wanted to create something beautiful and help as many people along the way as possible. The words in some of these books were potentially fatal, especially to such a young and inexperienced mage, but those kind of spells had never particular caught her attention.

The young boy was left to read the more appropriate spellbook as Ur created breakfast, began her packing and assessed the weather. They had been blessed, or perhaps cursed, as the snow was already dropping its last white flakes and it would make for easy travelling in just a few short hours. It would give them enough time to pack and eat, but Lyon continued to stare at the books as diligently as possible. He took a few short moments to eagerly throw down the food that was given to him before once more opening the book.

"Is Ice Make the most powerful magic?" he asked suddenly.

Ur paused her packing, considering the question carefully. There were scholars that would no doubt argue over the properties of each kind of magic until they grew into bitter old men, but Ur had never considered it in such a way. Lyon clearly seemed inspired, however, and inspiration would be the only way to make any kind of moulding magic work. "I think it has the potential to be," she answered truthfully, pulling on her bag's straps tightly. "It also has the potential to be the weakest."

"Why would anyone use magic if it's the weakest?" Lyon asked curiously, clearly thrown off from the answer.

She pushed the smaller backpack in front of the curious boy, throwing her own over her shoulders. "Because not everyone wants to be strong and not everyone can be skilled at Maker magic, even if they are incredibly capable wizards. Maker magic harnesses the users' creativity but not everyone can be creative. Even if you follow every instruction in those books to the letter then you may be not be the strongest Maker," she said, once again thinking back to her daughter. Ultear had so much power that it was at breaking point, but every spell she had ever crafted with ice had been a copy of one of Ur's own creations. Ur had tried to force her to come up with her own technique and shape time and time again, but while the unfortunate girl had undeniably strong magic, her powers simply lacked the creativity needed to be an expert in that particular kind of spellcrafting. The results were incredibly powerful mouldings mirroring her mother's magic perfectly, but she was clumsy and unable to adapt to changing scenarios. Ur had always hoped that she would see her daughter excel in some skill more suited to her strengths, but they had simply not had the time. "Now come on, we're moving on from theory to the practical. Are you ready?" she broke away from her memories, pushing his closed book back onto the shelf and watching him as he threw the backpack over his shoulders.

He nodded, though he looked more nervous than excited. After all his passionate speeches and determination, now they were walking out of the door and once again into the cold wasteland his movements were slow and halting. He looked back at Ur for assurance often and she had to remind herself just how young he was. Though it was painful to think of him as a child about Ultear's age, she knew that both he and Ultear acted very mature for their youth, but that didn't mean that they didn't have the child still deep inside of them. It would be essential if he was going to excel at Ice Make magic and unlock his creativity, and she could only hope that within the layers of ice and snowy mountains he would be able to find the freedom to create.

They had been walking for the best part of two hours when they reached the summit. The unlikely pair glanced over the white wilderness, realising that the storm had been kinder than most but it still had the uncanny ability to blend the landscape into one nearly unreadable blank canvas. "Kilarcky Ruins… You're sure?" she asked him, glancing to the North.

The boy nodded, tightening his grip on the backpack straps, clearly trying to recognise anything from his journey towards the Ice Maker.

Ur sighed, "Alright then…" and dropped her backpack. "Then we should start training here. Strip."

The boy took a staggered step back, his eyes growing wider as the new master began to pull off her jacket. "Uh…" he stuttered, clearly unsure what he had gotten himself into. "The books didn't say anything about… stripping…?"

Ur gave him a playful smile. "Of course they didn't. But you didn't want the books to train you, did you?" she challenged, pulling off her shirt and stuffing it into her backpack. "Come on, I've left enough room in your bag for your clothes. I wasn't joking; take off your clothes."

Still clearly nervous, Lyon's determination drove him further than logic ever could. His backpack fell to the ground and slowly he undressed, nervously blushing as he turned away from his master's underwear. He was, thankfully, distracted by the blistering cold as he shivered violently. He was also too distracted to see the expression across Ur's face as she moved behind him, eyes pinned on the mark on his back. A guild-mark. Ur swallowed hard as she knelt down, her bare knees against the crisp white snow unflinchingly as she pushed his clothes back into his bag for him. She had spent her entire life within these frozen mountains and she knew that guilds were few and far between, but there wasn't a single soul from Isvan that couldn't recognise the cross that marked Seraphim's Blade. It was a symbol that was almost inescapable throughout the cold world and while there was no such thing as 'official' or 'dark' in a land where no guild had a legal order to follow there were some that needed to be avoided at all costs. She didn't mention it, staying silent as she held up his rucksack so he could put it back on and cover the red tattoo.

"Wh-wh-why are we doing this…?" he asked her, his words barely audible through his chattering teeth.

She gave him a brave smile, shielding the new conflict from her eyes. No matter where he was from, he still needed to be returned home, she reminded herself. "You already began your training last night without even realising," she said, standing back up. "To mould ice, you need to be accustomed to the cold. You need to respect the chill. This is an essential step. Now, are you ready to run?"

It was clear that the boy barely felt able to move from the stiffness of his nod, but the promise that exercise would warm his muscles seemed to be enough. Ur grinned wider and he did his best to offer her a smile back, and they both ran.

By the time they had reached the bottom of the mountain, both were soaked in sweat. Their breathing came short, heart racing in their chest, but Ur laughed. It had been a long time since she had taken a run in the cold, even longer since she had done it while feeling so close to the snow against her bare skin. It was refreshing, it was magical, and her eyes gleamed brightly. She looked back at her new student and found that he had a smile on his face too, one that she had yet to have seen. Despite his cold, despite how much she knew his muscles must have been aching, he was smiling and she knew he wasn't just doing it for her sake. He was smiling at her laugh.

Still chuckling to herself, she put a hand on his forehead. "You're very good at dealing with the cold already, Lyon," she commented, feeling the heat still emanating through the sweaty skin but relieved that he was still shivering and had potential to move further through the cold. She had to be particularly careful as she didn't have a safe, warm home to return him to this time if his temperature dropped too sharply, though she did carry the fire lacrima in her bag just in case and there were plenty of sticks around to make a quick camp. "Have you used a kind of ice magic before?" she asked curiously, feeling a potential power beneath her fingers she couldn't place.

He gulped the air hungrily, focussing on controlling his heavy breathing before shaking his head. "My parents use Take Over magic. That's what I was training with before," he told her, wrapping his arms around himself.

She blinked, completely thrown back by the sudden opening of information. "Take Over? That's quite a difference from Ice Make magic. I'm not sure how easily you'll be able to move from one to the other," she admitted.

He turned away, unable to look into her eyes or answer.

Ur found herself frowning, trying to decide what a life must have been like for this child now that she knew that he had been a part of Seraphim's Blade. She had only heard fleeting whispers of the guild recently but they had been disbanded and reunited so many times it was impossible to keep up with their actions or intentions, and while there was always a chance that they had turned to more respectable ways, it seemed more than unlikely. She was also unlikely the guild would willingly greet her with open arms, even if she offered Lyon as an olive branch. She had been responsible for their collapse more than once. The thought dawned on her for a moment that Lyon may have been a trap to lead her straight back to their guild so that they could exact their revenge. The child was clearly nervous and it was no secret that Ur had recently lost her daughter that was his age. It would have been the perfect ploy and she would be walking straight into their trap, days from home or anyone that could protect her. She wanted to trust Lyon and above everything else believed he desperately wanted to learn. So, she forced her frown back into a smile, and deciding that for now she needed to place her trust in his story.

"Watch carefully," she instructed as she took a step forwards, putting her hand against her palm and twisting the most basic of spells and instructing him how to repeat. She showed him a few times, obediently answering any questions and pointing out the common mistakes, before turning to him and suggesting for him to try. As she had expected, the magic twisted easily through his fingers. The blue light circled around his hands, shapes and symbols glowing in the air before a small yet perfect circle of ice appeared before him. His eyes went wide, frozen as he stared at his new creation. Ur grinned, putting a hand on his shoulder and congratulating him on his first successful Ice Make spell. "Are you sure you haven't used ice magic before?" she chuckled.

Lyon stepped forwards, taking the ice that he had just moulded into his hands and feeling the edges in disbelief. Ur watched in silence as he turned it over and over in his hands, what she thought from his previous actions to be studying his own work and trying to find his next improvements, but slowly she saw his shivering shift. Her instant fears were that the cold had been too much and that his body was finally fighting the chill, but as she took another step forwards she could see the tears streaming from his eyes. His breathing had changed as he bit back sobbing, but he was unable to fight back the tears from his eyes. "Lyon…?" she whispered gently. "What's wrong?"

He looked up at her, eyes wide but with a smile on his face through his crying. "I actually did it…" he whispered, before running over and wrapping his arms around her waist, unable to stop himself from breaking down into his tears of joy.

Ur held him for as long as she could, surprised and concerned for his sudden overflowing emotions. She couldn't deny that he was happy, and she remembered feeling so filled with joy that she wanted to cry the very first time that she had cast the ice magic, but it had never had quite this extreme reaction. She brushed his hair back, letting him cry away the tears that he had clearly been holding back for some time and knelt down to his level. Without words, she pulled off his backpack, handing him back his clothes and helping him to wrap up warm once more. He may have easily adapted to the cold, but he was still a very young boy and they had been standing still in the freezing weather for some time.

They agreed to find shelter before darkness could fall, somewhere they could continue to train with the new spells. They were lucky enough to find a cave which overlooked the rest of the mountainside, the clear path ahead of them for the twists and turns towards the ancient ruins. They gathered branches and twigs, piling them together ready for the evening. There were still many hours left in the day but Ur didn't want to move any closer to Lyon's home while the next stretch would take them through the empty wasteland with little chance of shelter, nor did she want to push him further when he had acted so emotionally fragile.

"Tomorrow I'll teach you how to hunt," she informed him as she pulled out the rations from her backpack, passing a small packet to Lyon. "I think it'll take some time for your magic to be strong enough to use it to hunt even a rabbit, but I can still teach you how I use mine."

Lyon took the packet, looking down as he understood the implication to her words. She still very much meant her promise that they would part ways as soon as he was reunited with his family. "When you give up magic… will you still hunt?" he asked her curiously.

The question had caught Ur off-guard, realising that she had almost forgotten her return would be without her faithful magic. Training with Lyon and returning to the roots of her creations did not allow her to feel the same happiness she had once felt at this prospect. She slid back, leaning against the cold stone wall of the cave and let the confliction wash over her. "I'm not sure," she said, realising that her isolated home would be difficult to keep if she did not fend for herself. She would need to find a new way to hunt, or at the very least get a normal job in the town to buy enough to not need fresh meat.

"I don't understand why anyone would give up magic," Lyon said thoughtfully as he unwrapped the food.

Ur's knees slid back to her chest, a pain deep inside suddenly biting. She told herself that she had to be strong, that she had just seen the small boy cry and now suddenly she could feel her own tears were ready to fall. She wanted to tell him that he would understand when he was older but now, sitting in the middle of nowhere surrounded in nothing but biting cold, she could feel the magical energy inside of her giving her a desperate strength and her arguments all seemed to fall short. "Magic can be wonderful…" she whispered with choking words. "It can give you power and strength and freedom and joy. But… It can be dangerous."

Lyon looked up, keeping quiet as he realised that the words that were coming out of Ur's mouth were both difficult and not intended for himself. She was speaking into the wind, into the valley, both to her own heart and to the magic that rested inside of it. "Is that a reason to give up on it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

She shivered. The cold did not affect her, but her entire body shook and she wrapped herself into a tight and warming ball. She didn't have an answer for him, didn't have an answer for herself, but instead looked back at him and returned one of her own. "You've never cast a spell before today, have you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Lyon looked wide eyed, surprised that she had been able to read him so easily. He shook his head, looking ashamed. "I couldn't do a single Take Over," he admitted, his strained voice through the difficult confession.

Ur nodded, gently putting her arm around him. "Not every mage can use every type of magic. It doesn't make you stronger or weaker. It is very rare for any skilful wizard to use more than one form of magic. You also have to remember that being able to cast Ice Maker magic is very different to being skilled at it, and you may even find your calling is for a different type of magic, but I can tell already you have a lot of potential whatever magic you choose to use or whatever magic chooses you. What I don't understand is why anyone who had never cast a single spell would be so obsessed with being the _best…_ " she questioned lightly.

The small boy found himself leaning in closer, though whether it was towards Ur's warmth or her maternal kindness was anyone's guess. "No one thinks that I can," he whispered. "No one thinks that I can do anything. I have to prove them wrong; I have to be the best. That's all that she expects of me."

"She?" Ur's eyes faded into realisation, feeling the way he leaned closer and the strain in his voice. "Your mother?"

He nodded stiffly, gripping his hands tightly. "I overheard them talking. She said if I couldn't even cast one Take Over then all I was good for was to be one of their sacrifices. But now I can show them, I can show them all," he hissed, his words suddenly heated and filled with desperate rage.

"Hey…" Ur's voice soothingly washed over him, gripping onto his shoulder tightly as she could feel him tense beneath her. "Listen, your strength has nothing to do with anyone but yourself. If you want to be the very best, and if it is what _you_ want, I will never stop you. It would be the greatest honour for my student to overtake me one day," she promised him, wishing that she could forget for a moment that this was only for another two days. She had told herself that she wouldn't get attached, and even when she had seen the guildmark she had convinced herself that the parents still deserved their child regardless. Now she suddenly felt the urge to steal him away, to protect him from whatever cruelty he was describing. "But Lyon… tell me, what do you mean by the 'sacrifices'?"

Lyon blinked away his anger, glancing back to Ur and once more slipping away from his conflicting emotions and to his calculated nature. "The demon resurrections all need human sacrifices. That's how they create their most powerful Take Overs," he said in a very matter-of-fact way.

Ur's eyes suddenly grew wide, pushing herself back to stare straight into Lyon's eyes and ensure that no truth was escaping. "Lyon, are you telling me that Seraphim's Blade is killing people and… resurrecting demons?!" she asked, gripping onto his arms tightly.

He shuddered under her touch, obviously not understanding the magnitude of his words. The guildmark on his skin was old even if he was young and the world beyond his sheltered upbringing was far more difficult to understand in his childish innocence. "It's what they've always done. Father said that… that Mother was trying to be the strongest wizard. They said with every demon she can Take Over she becomes stronger… She's practising on smaller demons but there's only one she really wants. She carries his book around with her always. She says when she's taken over him, she'll be the strongest wizard in the world, even stronger than you."

Ur's mind began to swim. The demon attacks had been growing across the land over the last decade but she never could have guessed that someone was purposefully trying to control it. If what Lyon was saying they could have never been demons at all, but a wizard wearing a demon's power and causing the mass destruction that had already began to shape the land. All in the search for power.

And now Ur was holding the dark wizard's son in her hands.

She dropped him instinctively, breathing in sharply. She had promised herself that she would return Lyon to his parents no matter what. Whether they were good or bad people had never been a factor when she had so feverishly believed everyone deserved a second chance to be reunited with their child. What terrified her the most was that Lyon was clearly still so young and malleable, but he had a very kind heart hidden beneath his innocence and cruel teachings, but it was only a matter of time before the darkness of the guild had stripped all that away.

She swallowed hard, realising that she had kept silent for some time. She didn't know what to do, what was right or wrong anymore. This was the kind of conflict she had told herself she would never again be pulled into. Slowly she put her forehead against his, feeling the warmth from his youthful innocence. It wasn't a decision that should have ever been put onto his shoulders and it was her own burden to bare now. "We should continue training, Lyon," she told him, knowing she had two more days to make her choice.

* * *

 **Don't forget to review if you've enjoyed this! I'm still writing and always appreciate feedback and ideas.**

 **Now I'm going to go crawl in a corner and nurse my bleeding fingers...**

 **Guest: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I take a lot of my finer details from the fairy tail wiki when I'm a little confused but I'm already fairly certain its been called 'The Land of Isvan' which makes me think it's an area instead of one town? And not the same place as Iceberg. I could be wrong but that's the way I'm taking it :)**


	2. Lyon Finds Ur

**Lyon Finds Ur**

"How many times have I told you, use _both_ hands!" Ur scolded him for the hundredth time that day, batting him across the back of his head.

The pair had not made good time on their journey to the ruins and back to the guild, but if either of them had noticed they chose not to mention it. The sun was high in the sky for the fourth day since the blizzard and despite the good weather that had blessed them so far, they were still roughly two hours from the ruins. Lyon was starting to lead the directions a little more as the landscape swapped from Ur's home to his, though neither of them set a reasonable pace and they took many extended lessons or detours to hunt the few straggling wildlife.

In that time, Lyon had proven to be a particularly skilled student. Not only was he eager to learn, all initial signs pointed to him being more than capable of the creativity required to harness the unrestricted form of magic. Though he had yet to find his style, the more they walked the more he began to enjoy discovering the different shapes and forms that his ice could take. The joy that he had felt in crafting his first spell had not gone away and he craved more instructions, more powerful spells and new ways to explore the maker magic, realising quickly that he could create an entire world within the ice that he was free to manipulate. The more his magic progressed, however, the bigger his ego became. Upon realising he could create almost identical creations with only one hand instead of the complicated techniques Ur insisted on, he slipped into his new habit and stubbornly ignored his master's objections until he could receive proof that she was right and he was wrong.

This time, however, instead of his normal eyeroll and half-hearted objections, he continued to look straight in front of them, staring at the dark silhouette against the blank landscape.

Ur's eyes were quick to follow his and Lyon was quickly pushed behind the skilled Ice Maker protectively. He had watched her laugh and joke over the last few days but whenever he even mentioned the proximity to his guild she had frozen in place and become more defensive. Though he didn't understand the reaction entirely, he felt the cold of her magic flutter through the air as the stranger approached, his figure becoming clearer with every step closer. Lyon didn't recognise him, he realised eventually, surprised that an unknown man would be so close to his home. He had spent many days travelling around this frozen wasteland without interference, locals even going far enough to say that the ruins were cursed and avoiding the valley at all costs. The location had been chosen carefully for this reason two years ago, following the deadly raids that had torn his guild apart, and though they struggled without food or clean water within walking distance, the guild had never objected to simply taking whatever they needed from the further towns.

Ur's hands dropped suddenly with a breath of relief as recognition glimmered in her eyes, though she seemed to still have a hint of a troubled frown across her face. The tall figure also seemed to recognise her as he waved quickly. Lyon took the opportunity to curiously step forward, seeing no more need for Ur's defence, glancing between the two and trying to decide exactly who this older man was to his new master. "A friend?" he guessed eventually, though it didn't seem to fit perfectly. The mysterious foreign man had a very bright beaming smile towards her, his arms spread open and excited to see her. Ur, however, had a hand on her head, though a small smile rested against her lips.

"Yeah, something like that," she said eventually, though even Lyon could tell that was because that was the easiest explanation to the young boy. She stepped forwards, the smile spreading across her face as she let herself fall into the more positive of his contradicting emotions. "Guildarts, I didn't expect to see you here," she greeted him kindly, folding her arms over her chest in case he got any ideas to try and hug her.

The man grinned eagerly, eyes only on the woman before him. "Wherever 'here' is, right?" he asked her, his accent thick as Lyon tilted his head trying to understand it. He looked nothing like the men that he had ever seen before. His skin was much darker than anyone he had ever seen in Isvan and his hair had an unusual red tint to it. Then again, people quite often commented on how rare his own startling white hair was.

"Please tell me you aren't lost again," Ur asked him, lightly teasing.

Guildarts shook his head, holding his hands up defensively. "Hey, that was one time, and I thought that you were supposed to be the guide!" he objected chuckling to himself as his eyes suddenly hit the boy. Lyon fought the urge to hide behind Ur's leg once more, gritting his teeth and trying to stand tall and brave before the stranger. "Who's the kid?" Guildarts directed back to Ur.

"This is Lyon," Ur said, protectively putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "He's been my student for the last couple of days. I'm taking him home now," she said, ignoring the way that Lyon tensed at the reminder.

"Student?" Guildarts raised an eyebrow to Ur. "You went from giving up magic completely to teaching it, in less than a week?"

Ur looked between Lyon and Guildarts, shrugging her shoulders. Her face was almost unreadable, eyes glazed as she looked down at her young apprentice, but Lyon swore that he could see the small hint of sadness hidden inside that never seemed to fully disappear. "Don't get your hopes up. I'm just passing on my learning, and we're almost done here," she tried to say nonchalantly, clearly a little more distracted by her words than she had intended. She seemed to fall silent for just a moment, giving Lyon's shoulder the smallest of squeezes before remembering the conversation. "What, uh, what are you doing this far out if you're not lost? The nearest town is several hours south. There's nothing more to the north, is there?" she questioned.

Lyon glanced behind the man, eyes tracing the trail that they were taking and following the footprints in the snow leading as far as the eye could see. He already knew that there was nothing around but snow, ruins and a huge evergreen forest marking the edge of civilisation. It may have been the place he had lived but there was nothing homely about it. In his time within the guild, he had been warned time and time again to not venture further than the forest, but that had not stopped him. Sometimes the fear and shame would get too much, sometimes his rebellious nature would take control. The few times that he had gone further, he had been disappointed to find nothing as far as the eye could see, though the serene blank canvas had been a much-welcomed escape from his home all the same.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess I never did tell you what my mission was did I? S-Class mission, too," Guildarts boasted, receiving only a blank look from the woman as she folded her arms across her chest impatiently. "You remember that… well, I guess the closest equivalent is a dark guild really? It's a little differently to how we do it over in Fiore but they're like a guild. It turns out we didn't get rid of them well enough last time."

Ur's hands curled into tight fists, a warning glance on her face as she growled "Guildarts…"

"Can you believe that was really two years ago?" Guildarts carried on, clearly not taking the warning. "I guess they really creep up like cockroaches. You can never quite get rid of the bastards, right?" he shrugged. "Well, I guess this isn't the sort of thing you do anymore, since you gave up magic, but it would have been nice for you to tag along again this time. Not that they were a real problem."

Lyon's face drained of all colour. He could no longer even shiver, staring up at the stranger and realising that he had seen his silhouette before. Two years ago, he had seen two silhouettes burning on the horizon as the world disappeared into disaster. He remembered the biting cold, the explosions, the terror and carnage and being pulled close into his mother's arms as they were forced to run. That had been all that mattered, 'run' had been the word that circulated his mind whenever he thought of that day. Most of the memories had long since been blocked both by age and by trauma, but he remembered the fury in his parent's eyes, the panic and desperation as they hid and counted who they had lost

No one had been able to explain to the child what had happened and the true reasons behind the destruction of the guild. but even if they had taken the time to explain he would have been unable to separate the right from wrong. One day they had been a home, a family, a guild filled with people that had watched over one another and shared celebrations. The next they were fleeing for their lives. Most of the faces from before that day now blurred as a distant memory and the following months had been difficult. He remembered the hunger, cold, fear and the constant fighting between the few scattered members that had remained. He remembered hearing the screams of innocent families as they tore apart homes looking desperately for food and shelter, and the way his parents blamed every drop of blood they spilled on those that had ripped apart their lives.

Lyon was running. He didn't know when he had begun to run away but he could hear Ur shouting his name and wished that the wind would wash it away. He raced as fast as possible, head down and tears streaming down his eyes. Ur had been kind to him, she had been an excellent teacher and he was determined that he was going to learn from the very best. But now it was clear; she had been the bringer of destruction.

All he wanted to do now was to find his parents. He needed to know that they were safe, that despite what the tall man had said the repeated chaos of two years ago had not taken apart his family. He could ignore his parents' cruelty and their lack of love if he could just know that they were safe. They would give him love if he was strong enough to deserve love, he decided through his tears, rushing straight through to the ruins. He disappeared through defaced statues and crumbling structures, bouncing from rock to snowy mound with ease. He took swiping lefts, ducking beneath the archways with a practised ease and slamming straight into the unexpected figures.

Two heavily armoured men stared down at him as he scrambled back to his feet uneasily, heart pounding heavily in his ears. He remembered seeing these soldiers as they stormed past in their platoons last time, remembered pressing his head against his mother's shoulder and being warned not to scream or cry as they marched quickly to take away the defeated. There were only two here now that were staring at him but he could hear the clattering sounds of armour as many more dragged heavy bodies – either unconscious or dead – away to their strictest of punishments.

"Is he one of them?" one asked to the other, reaching over and grabbing Lyon quickly by the shoulder.

The young Ice Maker cried out as the fingers dug into his shoulders painfully. He tried to move, punching wildly and kicking as they lifted him off the ground. Desperate to escape, he wriggled out of his shirt, leaving the guard grasping onto his clothing as Lyon dropped to the ground breathing heavily. The guard looked at his escapee in shock, quickly throwing back the shirt as he saw the mark on the young boy's back. They both grasped their long spears, pointing them straight down towards the white-haired child. "He's with the guild!" one shouted, pulling back his spear ready to slice forwards.

Lyon gasped as he saw the flash of silver, defensively wrapping himself in a ball and holding his hands over his head. He breathed heavily, the world spinning as he prepared for the vicious blade to strike him straight through the red guildmark across his back. The young boy expected nothing less from the spiteful guards that had no doubt killed plenty and were preparing to drag the rest to a similar punishment. Lyon could only shiver, waiting.

The blow never came. Hesitantly he lowered his hands, glancing up and staring straight at the gleaming metal spike poised motionlessly over him, a white frosting spread up from the point all the way to the handler. The guard's eyes were open wide and coated in a blueish crystal.

"He's with me."

Lyon's gaze followed the voice, falling back upon his master. Ur stood, arm outstretched with the familiar symbols of the Maker skill on her fingertips as she challenged the one remaining guard. Her eyes were bright and as cold as the ice she wielded, no hint of mercy in her fierce stance. The guard took one look between his comrade and the Ice Maker and needed no time to consider his options, rushing straight back to his allies. It was unclear whether he was escaping the threat or calling for reinforcements, however, so she turned quickly back to the student. She had no time to fill her eyes back with the loving kindness she had wanted to show him, the grim determination still written across her face as she addressed him. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" she asked through a hurried whisper.

Lyon shook his head, eyes wide and still filled with tears. "Mother… Father…" he whispered.

She gritted her teeth tightly and put a hand on his shoulder carefully, though she was doing so more to pull him back to his feet than to be a comforting gesture. "It isn't safe for you to be here, Lyon. We need to get you out of here now," she ordered him.

Lyon shivered visibly, looking back between the frozen guard and his saviour. He would have been dead if not for the Ice Maker for the second time since their meeting four days ago, but this was supposedly the woman that had been the monster of his nightmares. He had craved everything she had to offer, the power he was promised, the freedom maker magic could offer and the comforting friendship she had already given him, but she had been all he was taught to fear. She wasn't offering a choice, however, quickly pushing his shirt back over his head to cover the dangerous guild mark and grabbing his wrist, dragging him into shadows.

Word spread quickly of the escaped child and his Ice Maker rescuer. Ur held Lyon back as they watched from one of the many broken buildings, both leaning as low to the ground as they could as they listened carefully to the whispers and directions of the fierce soldiers. Lyon remembered clearly from his parents' warnings that they rarely took prisoners alive. Even those that were lucky enough to be carted away to a 'fair' trial would be given a death sentence at the first opportunity. Resources were too slim in these parts to offer them casually to criminals, or at least this had always been their argument. To Lyon, it had never been anything more than an excuse to murder his closest friends and family, not that they needed an excuse when they were already lining the snow with blood.

He tugged on Ur's sleeve, looking up at her. "I need to find them," he told her desperately.

She twisted her mouth awkwardly, obviously remembering her promise to return him back to his parents in exchange for the magical gift. "I don't think they're here," she said slowly, cautiously lowering her voice as she saw the patrol edge closer. She pinned her eyes against his, wanting him to understand all the words that she could and could not say to him, the hope that would make or break the child twisting through her words. "Guildarts told me that he failed a part of the mission – the part where he was supposed to retrieve one of the books of Zeref."

Lyon nodded, quickly understanding the implication. "The demon book! Mother wouldn't have been without it."

Ur nodded cautiously. "The book was nowhere to be found, so there's a good chance that your parents escaped… again…"

Lyon looked down as Guildarts' words echoed through him; they were like cockroaches. No matter how many times you tried to squash every last one of them there would always be some to evade their clutches and the Vastias had generations of experience escaping danger. At least there was now the promise of hope and he felt the desire to trust Ur's words even if he wasn't certain he could entirely trust her. The trouble now was that he had absolutely no idea which direction his parents would take to escape or how he could ever be reunited with them again. Or even if he wanted to.

"Now!" Ur hissed urgently, grabbing onto Lyon's wrist and yanking them both forwards as they dived between statues and debris, hiding from the keen eyes of the soldiers and blending into shadows and snow.

More than once, as Ur tried to pull him forwards, Lyon grabbed her hand and yanked her in the opposite direction. At first, she was terrified, the brief moments of conflict causing potentially fatal delays, but eventually she began to follow his directions without hesitation. He knew these parts far better than the ice master and he watched with a confident satisfaction as his decisions were time and time again proven to be accurate. The ruins were broken and crumbling, and while certain paths held plenty of shelter, others held pitfalls and dead-ends. There was only one path that led them to a safe escape and towards the forest, both rushing forwards and disappearing between the evergreens until they could no longer hear the sounds of metal.

Both collapsed in unison. Ur leaned heavily against a tree as Lyon fell to his knees and held his head down. The silence they had tried so desperately to use in their attempt to escape was instantly shattered through panted breath. Lyon's tears had begun to fall once more, hands covering his face and pulling at his bright white hair in desperate frustration. His sobs filled the air around him and echoing through the evergreens, scattering what little wildlife could survive in such desolate wilderness. He was alone, betrayed and his entire world in pieces before him. Everything he had trusted or believed in had been broken.

The worst part was that everything was coming to an end. His home within the guild had been stolen from him, but he had always accepted that he would one day get as far from them as possible. It was his journey with Ur coming to an end that hurt him even more and knowing that he had no idea where to go from here. He hadn't even wanted to return home, but knowing there was no home to return to made everything more painful, made the snow beneath his knees even colder.

A hand was placed gently across his back. He shuddered at the touch, unable to stop himself from crying even harder. This kind woman had shown him so much in only a few short days. She had taught him what it was like to feel betrayed, to question everything that felt true and real in the world. She had also taught him freedom, however, and shown him the world that ice could create. She had taught him kindness, friendship and personal pride. "Shouldn't you be giving up magic now?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Go home and-and-…" his tears choked away his last words.

Ur's hand gripped his shoulder, tight yet tender as she lifted him up to see her, even if it was through blurred eyes. "We had a deal. I will train you until we find your parents. We haven't found them yet, so you're still my student, Lyon."

His arms were quickly around her shoulders, holding her as close as he could as he buried into her neck, letting the tears fall and vowing that he would never again cry this way. He knew then that he wanted to be close to her, wanted to trust her, wanted her more than whoever had been within his guild or a part of his old life. He wanted the ice magic more than take over, he wanted to be taught right from wrong and to feel the motherly touch from the dark-haired woman in front of him. He wanted to be a student instead of a disappointment.

* * *

The days passed for the two Ice Makers, gradually turning into weeks and falling into months. The seasons barely changed in the cold mountains but there were moments where the snow would begin to part for weeks at a time and even occasionally melt enough to show cobbled streets and allow the trees to fill with green. The worst of the winter was at least over and it had been made easier on both sides with their new partnership.

Ur taught Lyon to hunt as his skills developed and he began to find his individual shape, twisting more and more of his creations into dynamic animals. He created birds, snakes, apes, big cats and almost every other beast. When Ur questioned why he was so accustomed to the creatures that most of Isvan had only ever seen before in pictures, he explained that he had spent most of his life so far training with the animals in an attempt to replicate his father's Take Overs. Though he hadn't managed to cast a single spell, it had still developed his magical energy and his strength now lay heavily in the attacks of iced creatures. He found himself reminiscing over his old guild and described huge cages that they had carted from one camp to the next and the giant wild and foreign beasts, animals and demons that they had contained. Hours upon hours had been spent studying the tigers as they paced angrily in their cold cages, examining each of their angry pounces and hissing warnings. He knew what days the snakes were fed and when they had been left to starve and were at their most dangerous. He also described letting the demons and bears and panthers loose on anyone that dared attack their guild, or sending them to terrify local villages, but the expression on Ur's face taught him to trail away his words. He still had much to learn about the outside world and what was right or wrong, but he was prepared to take the difficult journey to rid himself of his old teachings.

"This will hurt," Ur warned him one snowy evening, hovering over him as she took in a shaking breath. "I will do all I can to numb the area but if we don't want it to scar then we need to do this gently, and gently will be painful."

"I don't care," Lyon gritted his teeth, lying on his front and gripping the pillow tightly, hoping that she couldn't see how much he was shaking. He was trying to be brave, a face that he put on far too often, and he was glad that he couldn't see Ur's expression this time. She always looked at him with such disappointment and sadness whenever he lied, seeing straight through his façade but choosing to say nothing.

He heard her sigh as her cold hands were placed on his lower back, the chill pushing through his skin unlike anything he had ever felt during his training. "Are you certain?" she questioned.

He swallowed hard and gave a stiff nod, but knowing it would be difficult to see from her angle he also murmured a vaguely agreeing sound. The guildmark had to go. Even if they didn't spend most of their time training while naked, it would have one day become too dangerous to bare on his skin, not only potentially placing himself in danger but putting Ur in a precarious position also. It wasn't something he wanted to be associated with anymore, it wasn't a world that he wanted to be a part of and he knew that even if was reunited with his parents he would stop at nothing to try and convince them away from the wickedness of Seraphim's Blade.

He took in a sharp breath as the pain began, tears streaming down his eyes. He refused to scream, biting his lip until it bled as his body convulsed in pain. The guildmark had to go. This was what he told himself to fight the pain, to convince himself that it was all worth it, gripping the pillow tighter and tipping his head into its softness as he desperately tried to focus on any other feeling of touch besides that of the blistering agony across his back.

The ordeal lasted only a few minutes but it felt like a lifetime for both the student and the teacher. She continued to cool his skin long after the removal was complete, rubbing his back comfortingly and whispering "You've been very brave," to the small child, helping him when he was ready to sit back up. "It shouldn't leave a mark now at least. There is nothing now that can tie you to that guild if you don't want it to."

Lyon shuddered, letting the words sweep over him. He felt as if he had just sliced away his past, what small slither of childhood he had experienced. It had been painful enough to be a blade through his soul and he was left a shivering mess. A determined look rested on his face, however, one that refused to leave his eyes. "I still want to find them," he admitted, knowing that the words were as painful for Ur to hear as they were for him to say. He didn't need to say who 'they' were. There were only two people in the entire guild that he had ever cared about, even if neither of them had particularly cared for him. "I want to help them get out, like I did."

The pain of the words was written across Ur's face, but she nodded with her own bravery. "You are a kind person, Lyon," she said truthfully. "Did I ever tell you about your name?"

Lyon shook his head, confused why she would even mention such a thing. "My name?"

She smiled gently, leaning back. "The name 'Lyon' derives from the legend of the zodiac, Leo the Lion, the celestial spirit of Light and Courage. And, possibly something to do with being good with the ladies too, but I think you're a little young for that," she chuckled, ruffling his hair playfully as he squirmed away from her. "I'm not sure if your parents knew that when they named you, but I think it suits you well."

He kicked her off, but he had a smile on his face as he did so, quickly running his hands back through his hair and pushing it back into its spikes. It at least proved a distraction from the pain in his back and the pain of his loss. "You really think that anyone would think that hard about a name?" he asked.

She paused, a little more thrown off by the question then he could have expected. "A name can be one of the most difficult decisions for a parent to make. It's more than just a name, it's about the child that you give it to. The name you give them can define them," she whispered knowingly.

He leaned forwards, realising not for the first time that her thoughts were no longer with the young boy. He crossed his legs, tucking them close to his body as he edged closer, suddenly appearing almost as a normal child ready to hear a bedtime story. "What did you name your daughter?" he asked. Though she had never mentioned she had once had a daughter, he knew that it couldn't have been secret. The local villagers would mention it in passing from time to time, especially when they saw the new child by her side and shook their heads or wished her the best. He knew nothing of the girl, however, only that she existed and now she did not.

Ur was surprisingly compliant that night, possibly shaken by the pain she had inflicted or perhaps only now starting to feel close enough to her student to allow the small glimmer of trust. "Her name was Ultear… But for a long time I didn't know for certain if I wanted to name her at all," she said, seeing the questioning expression written across Lyon's face and pulling back her memories. "My husband and I were both adventurers at heart and sometimes our adventures took us away for long, long periods of time. He had been away for over a year when she was born. I knew that as soon as he saw me pregnant he would know that I had been unfaithful and leave me for good. I kept to myself and hid from all villagers for months as I decided what to do, I was so afraid. Then, just as I finally thought that I'd decided to give her up, she was born and from the moment that I saw her, I just felt such happiness that I couldn't stop myself from crying tears of joy. She was my tears and she was my world, and I named her Ultear and refused to give her up.

"Of course, my husband left me," she said, waving her hand and feigning indifference, though her eyes told a very different story. "I can't say that I blame him. He was a very kind man who had always treated me well, but we weren't meant to be. But it didn't matter as long as I had my Ultear. She was my whole world. I did everything I could to save her, but in the end there was nothing any of us could do."

Lyon watched as the anguish etched into her face, starting to realise that she wasn't as old as she made herself appear. She certainly wasn't as old as his own mother, he realised, knowing that the lines across her face and the wisdom in her eyes had been gained by painful memories and not by the gentle gathering of time. When she spoke, he had the distinct feeling that this was the first time she had ever said these words aloud, words that had been eating her from the inside, and knowing he may never have the chance again he gently pressed further. "What happened to her?"

She didn't acknowledge him for a long time, twisting through the darkness of her own thoughts and troubling memories. When she finally did speak, her words were slow and halting, tears refusing to fall after too many times. "It was about a year and a half ago when she began to burn a terrible fever. At first there was no explanation. I did everything I could with herbs and doctors and prayer. Over time I began to feel a sheer magical aura growing inside of her until it was almost too intense to hold her. The most painful part was knowing that it was my magic that was killing her. Both her real father and myself were incredibly strong mages, so it made sense that she would have an overwhelming power but… she was so small and fragile that her body couldn't take it. I ended up giving her to the care of doctors that said that they could help her but… I didn't even get to see her before she…"

Lyon watched as her words ground to a halt, not knowing if that was where she truly believed that the story ended or if her strength had broken and the last of the painful words could not be uttered. He didn't need to know more, but he wanted her to know that he was there in Ultear's place, that he could be not only the best student but also the very best child in her life. He could bring her happiness and he didn't understand why that simply wouldn't be enough to fill her void when he had so easily replaced his parents with her care. There were many things that he had yet to understand about Ur, many things he had to discover about the world, but he wanted to learn it all. He knew that if she didn't understand it now it was simply because he wasn't strong enough, he wasn't good enough, wasn't powerful enough to be the child that she needed, and so he kept quiet, determined that his actions would overcome his lack of words. She didn't speak for a long time, and Lyon had no reason to delve deeper into what were obviously painful memories, instead determined to focus on the training he could gather from her and watch their relationship grow without the outward pressures.

In the following weeks, the training continued as normal, comfortable in the knowledge that they could continue their impractical training methods without the risk of Lyon's exposed guildmark attracting lingering questions. Their journeys moved further and further from their home, teaching the all-important survival skills of the wilderness and the constant overlying message to respect the cold above all else. They followed signs and maps, occasionally travelling to nearby towns and gathering provisions and selling valuable pelts.

While learning to respect the iced landscape had been relatively easy for the young student, respecting the others that they shared this wilderness with was much harder. He refused to pretend to smile for anyone else's sake and quickly grew tired of Ur's constant urges for him to try and play with the other boys his age. He didn't feel anything like the boys his own age and he had no patience to try. He glared as she time and time shook her head at him, but at least it was better than her anger. There had been multiple times that he had slipped up and acted completely inappropriately and Ur was left to discipline a child that wasn't her own. Ur was a wonderful woman and friend, but she was unfortunately not the most patient, while Lyon had an ever-growing ego and dangerous confidence, more than once resulting in the two stubborn Ice Makers yelling at one another in the middle of the streets before she dragged him home.

For every action that she scolded him for, there were more that she chose to not mention. The destinations of their journeys were random at first, making their way across the landscape guided only by the reluctance to travel the same direction more than once. The more they travelled the more Ur forced Lyon into the towns and villages and though he was reluctant to engage, Lyon learnt quickly that keeping quiet had its own advantages. He may not have learnt how to flawlessly enjoy himself around the others but he did quickly understand that they could be useful. The more he was forced to speak the better he became at listening instead, and he soon began to learn the paths that he wanted to take Ur - the paths that lead them straight towards the rumours of attacking demons.

It was impossible for Ur to not have noticed, but she said nothing and let him lead the way.

The only difficulty with following rumours was that they were always one step behind. The towns, though most of them were barely big or stable enough to even be called a hamlet, ranged from destroyed to untouched. It soon became clear that most of the rumours were completely unfounded or exaggerated, spurred on by the sudden increase of demon attacks over the last few years and made to paint a picture of devastation and intrigue. At first, it annoyed Lyon every time he found a dwelling completely unscathed but the more that he began to see hollow shells of broken lives, the more he began to pray that the next rumour would be false and that the people within would be safe. He found himself torn between his desires to find a clue to his past and to find the dwellings had remained unharmed. Isvan was luckily filled with hardened survivalists who could quite often fight the weakest of the enemies alone, and he found himself compromising in hoping that they had been attacked but had also successfully protected themselves. Even in these instances there had usually been a price to pay, a look of horror resting in the victorious celebrations, but if he could find a clue then he felt it would have been worth it.

Another difficulty he faced was that he simply had no idea whether a demon was a genuine demon or something that had been summoned by his family. Even discounting the false reports there were too many and too spread to have all come from the same half-disintegrated guild, and these lands had always struggled with beasts, creatures and demons of varying strengths and sizes. He was left as clueless as when he had first begun, only now more heartbroken by the constant images of trauma he had chased.

Eventually, no matter how long the road travelled had been or how close he felt to his target, they had to go home. Every time that he did he felt a sting, but knowing that he had a safe home to return to moved his feet forwards and kept his spirits high. He told himself that every day that he spent with Ur was making him stronger and that one day he would finally be strong enough to achieve whatever goal was set in front of him, strong enough to be the person he could never be. Being as strong as he could be simply wasn't enough, he had to be stronger than _anyone_ could ever be. His obsession kept him occupied and Ur did not stop him, knowing that it was easier than focussing on other things. During the long and difficult journeys home it would be all he would talk about, chattering away about the day that he would be the very strongest and debating which of the books he would be studying once more to upon their return.

He had been so wrapped up in his talking of the future that he barely noticed the roar carried over the frozen valley.

Both Lyon and Ur stopped suddenly, looking at each other and obviously trying to decide if they had imagined the sound or if it could possibly be real. Then the roar echoed a second time, a throaty brutish battle-cry that chased birds out of their trees and scattered the wildlife for miles around. The sound crept down their necks, twisting a hellish cold around their hearts and an inexplicable fear from the unknown sound. Whatever had caused it was huge, lungs strong enough to push the cry as far as the eye could see. It shook the land, caused the snow to shiver and cause dangerous blocks of snow to tumble towards the valley below.

Lyon had been told time and time again to respect the cold and the wild world that had been born from it, and he eyed the huge mountains and their precarious layers of snow. Below, however, in the heart of the valley, was something that commanded even more respect than cold, something filled with more terror than an avalanche, something more sinister than every rumour of every growing darkness spread across the land.

"What is that…?" Ur whispered, looking below as her eyes ran across the huge horns and terrifying jaws. Though it was miles away it dwarfed the forests below. "It can't be… It can't possibly be real..."

Lyon took a staggered step forward. And another. He only had the obsessed descriptions from his mother in his ears, blocking out the roars and shuddering snow around them. This was the creature of legends and nightmares, the embodiment of death and destruction. Crafted by the legendary Lord of darkness Zeref, lovingly cared for by the abusive parents and now, somehow, resurrected in all of its former glory. "Deliora," Lyon breathed.

"You know…" Ur's words faltered, looking at Lyon in disbelief as all the pieces began to fall into place. "The book, your parents' demon book. It was Deliora all along?" She put a hand on her head, unable to focus between the huge beast below and the young child. "Even if you'd said 'Deliora' I'm not sure I would have believed you meant _this_ ," she murmured to herself. "It's nothing more than a fairy tale, a nightmare to scare little kids, this isn't real, this is just a nightmare…"

Lyon's eyes were now fixed on the creature. Even if it had exceptional eye sight, he and Ur would more than likely appear only as two tiny dots across the folds of white, and there was something far more appetising on the horizon. "There's a town…" he whispered in realisation, watching as the creature's giant head turned and began to move with purpose. "Ur, there's a town!" he said with more urgency, stepping back to her and grabbing onto her sleeve.

Ur nodded, though he saw something in her eyes that he had never seen before. She didn't move her legs for a long time, staring back at the monster in front of them. If her pale skin could have possibly held any less colour he would have been able to see the flush drain from her cheeks as she swallowed hard, hands gripped into two tight fists. The beast hadn't even begun to fight yet but even Lyon in all his nativity and basic grasps of magic could feel the energy ripping through the air, feel the crunch of snow under every one of his heavy footsteps, the careless power resonating from the overwhelming evil. He had felt his power before, but while contained under multiple sealing spells and resting quietly within the pages of the forbidden tomes it was incomparable.

As Ur hesitated, he looked not only at the direction the demon was going to, but where he had been. The feeling of the dark magic was so familiar that he felt the pull to his past, and lying beyond the giant footsteps in the snow was the promise of the clues he had been hunting for months, the hope that had been lying just beyond the horizon that one day he would be able to meet his parents and pull them from their dark path. The giant creature was moving with steady determination but leaving clear heavy tracks in its wake, marking the path back to it's summoner. If he squinted hard enough he could see the caves and outcropping that would have been the perfect hiding place for his old guild. But in the complete opposite direction, the huge demon was edging closer to the innocent lives, ready to tear it apart and dissolve the world into permanent darkness.

The choice of the past and future lay before him.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! If you're enjoying it, please make sure that you drop a review/fave/follow :)**

 **OK, this was going to be a three-shot (Well, originally it was going to be a one-shot - ha!). I've now written the next chapter and it very much isn't lol**

 **Tune in next time for 'Gray Finds Deliora'!**

 **Fairly: Thanks for reading/reviewing! I think I'll be taking this in canon, but with the nature of the canon here it might break it slightly. I had it all planned out but now that plan has just gone hehe Although not gonna lie, I'm not sure if I'm physically capable of completely happy endings!**


	3. Gray Finds Deliora

**Gray Finds Deliora**

Bounding through the city streets, an unflinching grin was plastered across the young boy's face. The drifts of snow were starting to melt into huge puddles which splashed as he ran through them, laughing as the bottoms of his trousers quickly became soaked. There were screams and angry shouts from behind him but the boy could only hear the laughter, spreading out his arms as he slid on the wet pile of sludge, skilfully making the sharp corner. One of his friends missed it, sliding through the muddy sleet and spraying the white walls in black. They only laughed more, looking behind at the fallen companion instead of their rushed steps ahead as another ran into some stalls and a third knocked over a potted plant. The dark-haired boy jumped over the chaos of his friends' missteps, slamming into the ground as the grey puddle splattered around him. The woman before him was screaming and complaining about the dark marks he had left against her pretty white dress but he kept running on with the grin growing wider, climbing, racing up walls and jumping down.

Eventually the friends ducked into a corner, trying to cover their giggles as a quick observation told them that most of the town were now looking for the young rascals. It was also clear to see why: Half of the stands in the market place had been covered in muddy slush and sometime between their second and third lap some had even been knocked over from their misplaced corners or overestimated sliding skills. There had been apologies given but they'd been drowned in heavy laughter as the boys hadn't even stopped to catch their breaths.

"That was soooo funny!"

"I can't believe you fell on your face!"

"Shaddup! At least I didn't run straight into the flower stand!"

"Oh man, did you see the look on that lady's face?"

"No, I didn't. Please, describe it to me."

The friend's laughter suddenly dropped short at the unexpected adult voice, pulling themselves as tall as possible and nervously grouping together. Standing before them was a tall woman, her hair as dark as night and her eyes sharp black orbs staring unflinchingly at the troublemakers. They didn't dare to whisper to one another while under her stern gaze, a look of guilt written on every one of their faces as they stared up at the fierce lady. Their group grew tighter and closer, until suddenly in unison they pushed forward their tribute to appease the angry mother. Gray was the unlucky victim, stumbling forwards grumbling "traitors" angrily under his breath as he rubbed his neck awkwardly, refusing to look up to his mother.

"Gray Fullbuster, you are in so much trouble." The angered adult's eyes shone sharply as she leaned forwards, grabbing him by the ear.

Gray cried out in pain as he was dragged away, his face turning bright red as she gripped his ear tightly. He felt angry, fuelled by his embarrassment and glaring back at the boys that had pushed him forwards so quickly. They stared back at him, muttering between one another until one of the youngest dared to step forwards. "Mrs. Fullbuster… Please don't tell my mum you saw me here…" he asked, voice wobbling.

The lady stopped and turned back, staring at the cowering boys. She didn't respond, simply taking the time to let their panic sink in as she studied each one in turn, memorising the faces and names of her son's so-called 'friends'. It was no secret that it was not only the young children that viewed her with fear and if she wanted to, she could have made both the boys' and their parents' lives very difficult following their most recent misconducts. It seemed everyone in the town held respect for the tall dark-haired woman but her own child, as he still attempted to wrestle his way out of her grasp. She gave no reply. Eventually she turned on her heels, leaving the small group of children to cower in the unknown fear as continued to drag her son away.

It didn't take long for Gray to rip himself out of his mother's grip, stubbornly folding his arms across his chest. He was strong for his age but he wasn't stupid, matching his mother's footsteps obediently while she prepared for his punishment. He refused to be like the other boys and consumed by the guilt for knocking over a few loose apples, no matter what anger the rest of the town gazed upon him with. He didn't meet a single one of their glares, instead his eyes darted across the town. They had created far more of a mess than he'd intended but stubbornly he tried to ignore it. He stormed past the flower salesman tenderly trying to wash the delicate foreign bouquets, turned away from the grocer trying to put together a broken wooden box and defiantly pretended he hadn't noticed that the crying woman's pretty white dress had been completely ruined. There was more evidence of their chaotic race ahead, as the local bar's tables and chairs were covered in mud and kegs were rolling to the other side of the street. His mother marched forwards, taking the nearest overturned barrel and beginning to roll it back to the inn.

Eventually, she sighed. Gray turned immediately, surprised it wasn't the hissing scolding he had come to expect. He had already prepared his long-winded explanations but now every excuse was tumbling out of his mind at the emotional shift. "I don't like you hanging out with those boys," she admitted as she pushed the disrupted delivery back to the bar, ready for their evening trade.

Gray was caught off guard, a frown crossing his face. "They're my friends!" he defended quickly.

She listened, but appeared to be concentrating more on aiding the angered workers than her son. "They're a bad influence on you, Gray. You know that you're much better than this kind of behaviour," she warned him, returning the first barrel to the landlords and quickly moving onto the second. She held the edges, purposefully taking longer to lift it as she hoped that her son would lend a hand. He turned his head away. He couldn't even remember knocking over the giant beer kegs and instantly found himself blaming one of the slower friends, stubbornly refusing to help with something that clearly hadn't even been his fault. "You shouldn't surround yourself with people who will betray you so easily," she continued, finally lifting the barrel on her own and passing the goods back to the bar staff. "Good friends, real friends, would do anything to protect one another."

Gray didn't look at her for a long time, mentally complaining about how little she understood about friendship. Both of his parents had a fierce reputation and he genuinely couldn't think of a single ally they had despite their kind and generous nature. People were generally afraid of them all, their family gathering whispers and rumours he could not understand, making it hard for the young boy to find his place in the town. "You're gonna tell their parents, aren't you?" he groaned, already embarrassed and knowing that it would only get worse.

She smiled. "Well, I wasn't planning on it before they handed you over to me," she shrugged, pushing up the third and final barrel. "No one betrays my boy."

He hesitated, chewing on his lip angrily before rushing forwards, assisting with the final few pushes as they helped the grateful business owners finish their day's delivery. The workers seemed stunned at first, scratching their heads at the child's sudden change of heart but as Gray offered his half-hearted apologies, he received beaming grins from his mother and forgiving waves from the merchants.

While it undoubtedly was the right thing to do, Gray was still bitter and preparing himself for his future embarrassment, resisting the urge to beg his parent to forgive his friends. He couldn't help but kick the wet ground as they walked away, but now at least he directed the rebellious outbursts more towards the inner streets and made certain not to be seen if he hit anyone. His mother continued to advise him as they walked, explaining every possible punishment and making certain he was aware of the reasons she was being so stern. He pretended to listen, murmuring the occasional 'yes mother' until they stepped through the front door, once again safe in the warming territory of his home.

With hands on her hips, as the mother demanded that her husband must punish his son, he laughed. Instead he simply put a hand on Gray's jet black hair and ruffled it affectionately, telling his wife that "Boys would be boys." He ignored the irritated hiss that left her teeth as he caught the secret grins through Gray's remorseful façade, giving him an affectionate grin in return.

"Silver!" she hissed once again, all patience lost in her harsh tone.

The terrifying gleam in the mother's eyes was inescapable, even to the confident husband, finally forcing the fellow parent to quieten his laughter into a soft chuckle and eventually into a reluctant silence. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Gray, go to your room and think about what you've done. I'll… decide your punishment."

Knowing that meant he was out of his mother's clutches and back into his father's forgiving version of discipline, Gray only grinned and bounded upstairs. He was still young but he was quickly learning the familiar routine: His mother would fill him with terror but the punishment ultimately came from the father who found himself entertained by Gray's explanations and excuses, usually forgetting that he was supposed to be disciplining. It was a good job, too, because the one time that Gray actually had seen him angry still terrified him. He couldn't even remember what he had done wrong but the lingering memory warned him to always limit himself to avoid his father's true wrath. Most of the time, however, he was kind and gentle as he became lost in stories of his own mischievous childhood adventures, but first Gray had to play the part of the lovable son to unlock the memories. This time, if it was anything like the previous times, Gray would have roughly fifteen minutes before his father would come upstairs and sit him down to say 'his side of the story', and that meant he had fifteen minutes to do his best to look guilty and pretend to be incredibly sorry.

He paced, playing the story in his head over and over and trying to think of the perfect way to show his true apologies, while still making a tail enjoyable enough for the parent to become lost. It wouldn't take much; his audience was forever forgiving and he was more than confident that he had nothing to fear.

Restless, he pulled himself up on the bed, standing on his sheets and leaning over to open the window. Something caught his eye. He watched the street below with curiosity, seeing it filling with people running even faster than he had been. His first instinct was to mutter about how hypocritical they had been, recognising a few of those that had been genuinely angry at him and his friends, but with his hand rested against the window's handle he could hear the desperation, eyes widening as he saw the fear in their footsteps. "Mum? Dad?" he called down, eyes still pinned to the window.

He didn't hear a response and didn't know if they'd even heard him but there was a far more terrifying sound looming. Suddenly there was an ungodly noise and the entire building shuddered. The window under Gray's hand shook and he reeled back from it so quickly that he fell off the bed, afraid that the glass in front of him would suddenly shatter. He stared up from the floor to where the sound seemed to originate from, imagining a million nightmares and horror stories that could conjure such a terrifying noise.

"Gray!" The parents' footsteps were heard on the staircase, giving Gray the strength to pull himself back to his feet. As they ran through to his room he disappeared behind them, staring out of the window from between their legs. They dutifully stood in front of him, staring up at the looming shadow that crept over the horizon, submerging the entire room into darkness. "What the hell is that…?" his father breathed through the new shadows.

The sound erupted once again, the demonic roar straight from the gates of hell. This time the window shattered, covering the room in icy glass and ripping through curtains, bedding and childhood trinkets. Gray screamed, cowering behind his mother and father. The parents stepped back, protectively holding their boy behind them as the blast of hot breath tore through the family home. The roar rang over the new sounds of destruction, a huge and powerful fist seen crashing into the buildings before them and instantly reducing all to rubble.

"Run," his father breathed frantically, pushing them all backwards to the door.

The panic was already seeping in, even before the young boy could understand what was happening. He looked up to his father, the pillar of strength and hope that now had a determined yet terrified look in his eyes. He felt his mother's grip on his arm, tighter than it had ever been but blind to the pain as the instruction echoed through Gray's mind. It seemed like such an easy task but his feet felt like lead, his movements clumsy as he grabbed the doorframe on the way past. He turned and began to run down the stairs, only to be suddenly yanked in the opposite direction and dragged away towards his parents' room.

"Mika, what are you doing?!" the husband questioned with a loud yell, following the rest of his family to his own room, frustrated and terrified as he tried to guide his loved ones to safety.

In her haste, she ignored her husband. Quickly opening her top drawer, the mother pulled out something silver and glimmering, kneeling in front of her petrified boy. She was beyond looking brave, beyond feeling anything but fear pounding through her veins, but staring at her little boy her eyes grew softer. Gently, she took his hand and placed the metal necklace tightly inside, so tight that his fingers dug into the silver blade. "Keep this with you, Gray. Hide it from sight, but if you see anyone with this symbol, show them this and they will hopefully keep you safe long enough for you to escape," she whispered, bringing her forehead to his and closing her eyes.

The child didn't understand but he kept leaning towards her, his eyes wide and filling with tears. He wanted to ask a thousand questions, to tell her that he was afraid and that he needed her to be with him to guide him, needed both of his parents beside him, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.

The father watched, swallowing hard as he took a step closer. "You think this is Seraphim's Blade?" he asked his wife, fighting a harsh shudder as yet another building around them came tumbling down.

"Who else? This is Deliora, it has to be. I had hoped that we would have more time…" she whispered, looking back up at her husband, lovingly gazing into his eyes for what they all knew may be the last time. An apocalypse was coming and the smell of ash and death was already overpowering. She put her hand on Gray's cheek, smiling back at him and wiping away the terrified tears beginning to fall. "We need to leave now," she whispered quickly, standing straight once more and finally following her husband's urgency.

They ran down the stairs, but once in the doorway it was impossible to guess which direction led to safety, if any could. The huge monster was roaring loudly, bringing his huge claws down unto the buildings below and leaving nothing but rubble in its wake. People were screaming, tearing through the streets and knocking into one another in their haste. Some were merciless in their attempts to escape, while others dragged their loved ones close and tried to fight the crowds of desperation. Many were hiding, screaming and crying in the alleyways as they stared terrified at the huge creature of nightmares above them, silenced as another sweeping blow tore through the remaining buildings and coated them in heavy layers of debris.

Gray's arm was pulled back, staring frozen at the carnage around him. He blindly followed, walking backwards as his father dragged him roughly by the arm. Everything and everyone blurred together as the booming crashes of buildings overpowered his senses, the crackling roar twisting through his mind and making his footsteps slower until once again yanked forwards.

Every so often he would find something that he recognised, something pulling him back from the numb ache and reminding him that this was his home. The faces of the crowds all blurred into one, the buildings seen as only debris that had not broken down yet, the screams and silences chorusing as they weaved across street and road. His eyes were wide, footsteps falling slow every time he thought he saw a friend or teacher or local shop owner, only to be pulled quickly before he could call out to them. The more they ran the more the bodies began to pile, the more the awful roar seemed to mimic a cackling laughter. He raced past the scattered flowers trampled into the muddy ground, was ripped away from the empty hole where the grocery shop once stood and pretended he hadn't seen that the body of a girl in a pretty white dress, now stained in blood.

In one horrifying moment, it fell beyond hope.

The sky turned dark under a cloud of dust, the overpowering fear turning to a sudden sharp pain as Gray was thrown forwards by the sheer force of the falling building. Helplessly he fell against the ground, losing his father's grip as he tumbled forwards. The small boy coughed and spluttered as he felt jagged rocks beneath him, heavy beams across his back and trickling blood running down his face. His ears rang. He could barely hear the roar now, muffled beneath the high-pitched squeal. Turning back around, he opened his mouth to call out for his parents but heard none of his screams over the blasting pain.

He couldn't hear but he could still see. Everything looked impossibly far away, further than his grasp, but as he pulled himself to his knees he knew that he could not mistake the image of his dead parent lying in front of him. His father's eyes were wide and lifeless, his blood matted into his jet black hair bubbling from his cracked skull. Gray's tears were unforgiving, unable to blur the image that would burn through his mind for the rest of his life. He was screaming, begging for his father to answer, only the hoarse pressure against his lungs and throat telling him that he was shouting loudly. Neither he nor his father could hear his desperate cries.

Slowly the boy raised his head, looking at the piles of rubble before him. His mother had been standing there. Heart once again racing in his chest he jumped back to his feet, pulling on the debris and fallen rocks and watching them topple. There had been at least five people standing here. He desperately pulled on the largest rock, grunting and feeling the skin of his palms tear against the rough edges. An exhausted gasp left his chest, the huge boulder rolling back into place. He didn't have the strength to lift, didn't have the heart or the hope left in his grief-stricken state to uncover more bodies. He could feel the weight of the stones digging into his fingers, see the blood and the tears of fabric between the holes. All around him was the smell of blood and ash and smoke and a growing silence.

Slowly the ringing in his ears faded. The screams had died down. The crying and desperation and shouting and yelling were becoming more and more distant as the huge monster continued its unrelenting march. Silence was overcoming the pain and terror. Here, surrounded by the people that he loved, he was alone.

A hollow scream left his chest, heart pounding so heavily that he felt his ribs might break. He didn't want to look down and see the pile of rocks crushing his mother, look to his left and see the bloodstained body of his father, look to his right and see the remains of his family home. He gritted his teeth, tightened his fists, and looked straight ahead, straight to Deliora.

Anger flooded his veins and dulled his senses, and he began to run. He jumped over the mounds of stone and still bodies, skidded through blood and destroyed livelihoods, never once taking his eyes from Deliora. He was screaming because he had no energy left to say the words that stung his soul. Deliora had taken his mother, his father, his friends, his home, his life. He had no idea what he was going to do when he reached the demon but in his blind rage he didn't care, willing to pour every last moment of energy into stopping it. Fate had been cruel enough to keep him alive long enough to see the devastation around him, it could take his last moments of anguish if only he could have one last chance to stop the demon.

He was still some distance from the beast when he heard the sharp crack. He didn't stop, but looked up just quickly enough to see one of the nearby buildings had lost the strength to stay standing. He had only enough time for his angry scream to change to a terrified gasp as the walls crumbled around him, throwing him once again back. Heavy stones slammed into his side and he choked in pain, pinned to the ground. Gripping the cold earth tightly, new tears rolled down his cheeks as he felt certain he was dying.

Except he couldn't forgive himself for dying here. He trembled, trying to pull himself up but feeling the weight of the rocks over him was too much. He was weak, far weaker than he would allow himself to believe. He could still hear the distant roars, see the smoke on the horizon and smell the foul blood. His teeth gritted tightly. He ripped his nails through the ground. "Deliora…" he murmured to himself. "I won't forgive you… Deliora… Never…"

Fate had once again not been kind to him as he lay against the cold earth, tearing through the ground and staring into the distance. The image of the demon became smaller and smaller but his vision became clearer, no comforting darkness offering him respite from the hours of silence. Time was silent. Even the wind seemed to hush across the broken land, too afraid to twist through the still bodies and brush away the dark ash. The only sounds were his own, the soft scratching against the ground and vowing his final revenge against the demon that had stolen his life over and over.

That was how the boy was found. He had been pinned under the wreckage for hours and though his body had weakened with every moment on the frozen ground the determination still rested in his tear-filled eyes. He had one purpose, one last thing he needed to do before the demon took his life too. He needed vengeance more than he needed life, more than he needed blood or air or warmth.

"Lyon, get over here! There's a survivor!"

That was the first time he heard her voice. The dark-haired woman stood tall, casting a heavy shadow against him. He didn't watch her, his eyes glazed in pain and the desperate words whispering on his lips over and over. Vengeance powered his heart, determination filled his strained lungs.

"Hey, are you alright?!"

That was the white-haired boy. Anyone else might have seen an angel or a ghost in his pale complexion and strange bright hair, but Gray saw nothing through his tears. He could still hear Deliora's roars, still taste the blood and tears and ash. He didn't know who these people were or the affect they would have on him, how much this moment would shape his entire life; only looking back would he be able to appreciate the devastating cornerstone. Even then, he would be oblivious to the exchanged glances between the current student and master, the unheard conversations twisted through their silence.

Gray was barely aware of what was happening around him, images of blood and nightmares mixing with visions of impossible power. The woman formed her magic into the large iced flower, creating a leverage between the boulders and Gray's frail form as the new boy grabbed him and quickly dragging him away. "Are you alright?" he asked again, pulling him up and looking at his body, afraid that Gray would be unable to stand.

The dark-haired boy didn't answer. It seemed like a ridiculous question and he had no patience left to answer it. How could he possibly be alright when he was sitting several feet from the bloodied corpses of his parents? How was he supposed to feel when they were pulling away rocks that had once been his home, his friends' homes, his local school and shops. His entire life was scattered in blood and debris and smoke. And he could still hear the roar. He put his hands over his ears but it only seemed to make it louder, realising that the terrifying sound was coming from inside of his head.

The woman exchanged yet another glance with her young boy as she finally lowered herself down to Gray's level, examining him closely. There was no kindness in her cold eyes, even if he had heard a strain to her voice. "Lyon, do you think that you can help him stand?"

The boy, Lyon, looked back at his master and nodded sharply. He put his arm on Gray's shoulder hesitantly, a feeling that neither seemed particularly comfortable with, but eventually he pulled Gray's hands from his ears and pulled an arm over his shoulder, standing them both up shakily. "What are we going to do with him?" Lyon asked the woman, realising quickly that he was receiving no replies from the shaken boy who was still mumbling incoherently about his desires to destroy a demon.

The woman looked at the new boy for a few moments, rising to her feet as she assessed the situation. Against the darkness, the pain and the death that surrounded them, she had the ability in that moment to either be an angel or a devil. The cold land would be unforgiving to the new orphan and even if they brought him into the hands of the kindest souls there would be no guarantee that anyone would have any loyalty to a stranger when every day they struggled to fend for themselves. She narrowed her eyes, her glance now towards Lyon and the arm that he wrapped around Gray. "We'll bring him to safety and then decide," she said, turning on her heels.

Gray could feel the boy beside him suddenly stiffen, staring up at the woman. He couldn't understand the hesitation or the way that he stared at the back of the dark-haired woman's head, but he didn't much care. Deliora would fall. He would destroy Deliora. This was all he cared about, unable to process much more than this as his body was dragged forwards.

He had been walking for about a mile when he finally realised that the pain in his steps was more than just in his heart. His teeth had been gritted against the flooding tears for so long that he felt numb to entire world around him, letting the strange pair take him far away from the homeland. Every step away had burned but only now did he realise that one step hurt more than the next, and he finally cried out in pain and fell to his knees. The older boy, half dragged down with him, stared at him in disbelief as Gray suddenly let out his startled scream, gripping onto his leg.

The woman finally looked back at the children, a hand on her hip as she stared down at the two youngsters scrambling through the snow.

"What's the matter?" Lyon asked as he tried to lift Gray back up to his feet.

Gray shook his head, clutching onto his aching leg and refusing to rise with Lyon attempts at aid. He hadn't felt ashamed of his tears before but now that they were stemming from an entirely different kind of pain he turned away, burying his face into his arm.

Lyon looked up at his master, clearly already frustrated. The woman twisted her lips, tilting her head to the side and watching until it was evident that the white-haired boy was ill-equipped to deal with the hurting child. "What's your name?" she asked quickly to the new orphan, not taking a single step forwards or offering her own assistance.

Gray gritted his teeth. It was another ridiculous question that he had no desire to answer, but the pain both inside and out was too overpowering for him to concentrate on a decent comeback. "Gray. Gray Fullbuster," he said, not bothering to ask her name in return.

She didn't need an invitation, however. "We should have been introduced earlier. This is Lyon Vastia and I am Ur Malcovich," she said, giving Lyon a look which almost resembled scolding. "I need you to tell me exactly where you are hurt," she instructed the injured boy quickly.

Gray shivered. He wanted to say everywhere but on the other hand he didn't want to say anything to this woman. He had no heart left to accept the compassion that she was giving to him, knowing that it had been crushed along with his parents. He bit back his pain, too stubborn to let his full weakness show through even when it was as clear as day. "I want… to go… home…" The words slipped out of his mouth against his will. He was filled with anger, with burning desire to bring the same pain he was feeling to those who had inflicted it upon him. Emotions overwhelmed him but a child's voice spoke through his new darkness, an instinct that he didn't even know he possessed until the words fell out of his chest.

Ur's face softened for a fleeting moment. She turned her gaze to Lyon, who was now kneeling on the snow beside Gray having decided to give up on pulling him back to his feet. The look across his face appeared as shock, one that Gray would only years later recognise as an overpowering guilt. "Do you want to go back to that?" Ur asked, gesturing vaguely to the smoke and devastation to the south.

Gritting his teeth, Gray clutched onto the ground. His fingertips had already been twisted into bloody stumps from hours of scratching against the stiff earth but it didn't stop him from repeating the same desperate action now. "That's not my home… Not any more… Deliora will pay for this…" he hissed.

Lyon glanced back to Ur, and swallowed. Seeing her instructive gestures, he turned back to the new boy. "We need to get keep moving. The mountains aren't safe for travel in the dark, so we need to reach somewhere that we can camp. Ur asked if you were hurt. Are you?" he said, glancing to the leg that he had been clutching.

There was a rambling mumble under his breath. Gray hadn't been taught a lot of explicit words yet but he was using every one of them now to describe how he was feeling and how he felt about that particular line of questioning. The cold was growing around him, the darkness had been evident for hours and he couldn't deny the fatigue draining his body. It almost felt good, numbing him from the true pain that would unfold, but the prospect that they could find somewhere to rest was finally starting to appeal to him. To do so, he would need to walk and the very real pain in his leg overpowered that.

Eventually, Gray looked back up to Lyon. Only then did he realise how long it must have been before he'd answered, as the boy was looking at him as if they had pulled him out of his own insanity. Slowly he explained how and where it hurt, the pains that he could pull apart from his heartbreak, gesturing down to his leg and once realising that was physical he began to understand that his laboured breathing wasn't simply a part of his panic attacks and there was pain there too.

Ur acted unsurprised as she knelt beside him, putting a hand against each of the parts of his hurting. As far as first impressions went, it didn't much help as she prodded him and watched him cry out in pain. She still had those cold and unforgiving eyes as she assessed him, eventually letting them both know that his leg didn't seem broken but he did seem to have a few broken ribs from the falling debris. It would have been more surprising if he'd survived without a single scratch, Gray wanted to retort sharply, but his words fell away into anguished cries as she shoved ice against his swollen leg. The cold bit against his skin painfully but eventually it seeped away the worst of the swelling and helped to numb yet another growing ache.

It hadn't repaired nearly enough for his liking before he was once again pulled to his feet. This time the white-haired boy stood closer to him and offered more support, letting Gray use him as a crutch as they crunched through the untouched snow drifts. Finally, he grew to understand their advice to find shelter as quickly as possible. The darkness made their path precarious, more than once slipping and finding their steps suddenly on ice or loose gravel instead of the soft snow, while the cold became even more daunting when the sun was hidden away. They spared no time in finding their new shelter. It wasn't much, barely covering them from the growing winds and occasional cold sprays dancing through the air, but the outcropping had a roof and shielded at least one direction, and once the sun rose it would give them a perfect view of the entire valley. Gray didn't dare ask to move further but felt a heaviness in his stomach as he realised he would wake to the image of the remains of his broken life. If he could sleep at all.

He wrapped his arms around his legs, looking through the darkness and doing his best to ignore the pair of saviours. He didn't feel saved. He wanted to tell himself that he didn't feel anything at all but he couldn't shake the screaming inside of his head. Every knock, every flicker of shadow and every unusually harsh gust of wind brought a new chill down his spine.

"I need you to take care of him, Lyon," he overheard the woman telling her young student, stiffening. He knew that they were talking about him and the new problem that his being there posed.

Gray could feel Lyon's gaze burning in the back of his head but he remained so still that Lyon must have supposed he was beyond listening. "But what are we going to do with him?" the boy asked his master.

The question was answered with only silence for a long time. Gray pulled his legs closer, telling himself that he didn't care, that his ears weren't burning and his breathing wasn't shallower to better hear a whispered reply. These people weren't family or friends, they meant nothing to him, but everything which had meant something had been buried under ash, stone and lightly falling snow.

"I know how it seems," Ur said eventually to her student, her voice filled with a new sympathy Gray had not yet heard. She had been kind so far, they had both been considerate but she refused to shower him in pity. If he hadn't been so fuelled by darkness, he may have thanked her for that blessing. "You made the right choice. It was worth it, I promise you."

Gray didn't know what was worth it, or whatever _it_ was, but Lyon certainly didn't push further while in his presence. When he next walked past Gray he wore a deep frown, fighting back angry mutterings and walking with purpose as he helped prepared their makeshift camp in the dark. Gray was certain that he was avoiding looking at him. That was fine. Gray was not exactly prepared to make replacement friends so quickly and even if they had saved his life these two didn't exactly seem _likable._

The camp was made quickly with a practised ease, though they did mention that they were not prepared for a third party. Ur insisted that he took her sleeping bag and he gladly wrapped himself in the thin layers without question. Lyon offered some food for him, including a strange sugary substance that smelled strongly of mint and despite the name didn't even vaguely resemble 'cake', but Gray shook his head. Even the thought of eating right now made him want to throw up. Ur began to scold him, reminding him to keep up his health, but she quickly sighed and let it pass. He had no patience for her and she had no desire to make him feel worse than he already did.

The only thing left to do for the night was to sleep. Gray curled himself up into his new blanket, nuzzling against the scratchy material and shutting his eyes tightly. Even before he began to try he knew it would be no use. He could hear the soft breathing of the pair behind him, knew that they had fallen asleep easily even after everything that they had seen, but they had not felt what he had felt. They had not watched his entire life ripped from him. Even closing his eyes was painful. The silence echoed the roars of Deliora in the back of his mind.

"I will destroy you. I will stop you. I will destroy you. I will never forgive you. I will never forget. I will destroy you," he chanted to himself over and over again. "I will stop you. I will not forget. I will-" he gasped suddenly, sitting bolt upright as he stared out into the darkness. Something had interrupted his trail of thought. His heart was beating fast, pounding through his ears but his heightened senses in the terror could hear every rustle of leaves, every tiny gust of wind. He barely breathed, waiting.

There it was again. He scrambled back, falling backwards as the blanket wrapped across his legs. He panicked, eyes wide and staring into the darkness as he heard the rumbling growl.

Slowly, the creature appeared, a haunting movement against the white landscape. It snarled huge white fangs, body low to the ground and warning a pounce as its huge tail flickered back and forth. It was unlike anything that Gray had ever seen before, bright white fur glistening across its feline figure, paws bigger than the child's entire body. He pushed himself further back against the mountain wall, heart racing quickly. The huge cat pawed forwards slowly, scanning the small cavern before turning at the young boy with interest. It held his gaze for some time, glittering golden eyes holding his attention. Gray was breathlessly lost in the strangely intelligent gaze, unable to turn away as the cat looked upon to the pack beside him. After a couple of times of repeating the action, glancing between the boy and the satchel, Gray finally followed and looked down to his saviour's bag.

The big cat nodded. Gray's eyes grew wider, rubbing them as best he could while unable to take his attention from the lingering threat. The more he stared the more he convinced himself that there was something very human about the animal in front of him. The huge creature stepped forwards, this time a little more hesitant as it crept into the light and its intelligent gaze pinned to the sleeping figures behind his victim. Gray's eyes didn't dare follow his this time, but instead glanced to the bloody marks across his front leg. The cat pawed forward carefully on his injury but that didn't make him any less threatening, and as Gray hesitated it bared its bright white teeth and snarled. It made him act quickly but unfortunately his instincts pulled the satchel closer to his chest. Angered, the creature lowered itself to the ground, snarling before jumping up.

The bright white cat yelped as it was thrown backwards, quickly twisting back onto all fours and turning its growls to the new target. Ur stood tall, hands in front of her as a sharp iced vine twisted between the dark-haired boy and the beast. She glared, throwing her vined magic forwards as it crashed into the ground beside the cat.

It bounded out of the way with ease, but the attack had never been anything more than a warning. Thrown onto his side, Gray could finally see the big cat's markings. Though all of the beast's fur was white, some of it was slightly more shadowed and stretched into long stripes across his side. Along with the red blood across the front paw, there were also other markings of injuries twisted across its powerful body, but nothing of this caught Gray's eyes the same way as the symbol on his back. The boy's hands fell into his pocket, holding the matching emblem of his metal necklace so tightly his raw fingers hurt. _"Keep this with you, Gray. Hide it from sight, but if you see anyone with this symbol, show them this and they will hopefully keep you safe long enough for you to escape."_ The final words of his mother sprang to his mind, fingertips resting uneasily against the edges of the silver blade in his pocket, wondering if it also applied to animals.

"I know who you are," the female wizard told the albino tiger, her hands in front of her as she prepared another warning spell to the wounded creature before her. Her words were firm but undeniably quiet. Even her attacks had been nearly silent, throwing the creature in such a way that he only snarled and didn't feel enough pain to cry out.

"I know who you are as well, Ur Malkovich," the cat snarled back to her, clawing at the ground and keeping his voice as quiet as the Ice Maker's.

"The cat… it talked…!" Gray gasped against his will, eyes wide. Though Gray didn't know how to imagine a snow tiger's voice he could only assume that the speech sounded decidedly human.

"It's no cat, just a Take Over," Ur's eyes narrowed, refusing to let anything but a strong wizard stand before the twisted creature. "If you know who I am, you know that I have stopped your kind before and I will not hesitate to do so again," she warned him, her words as cold and ruthless as the magic she wielded. "I know everything you've done. You should be suffering a thousand times over. But… there has been too much suffering today. You need to leave before I change my mind."

The cat hissed loudly, clawing the ground and pounding backwards. Its movements were jerky, clearly feeling pain as it landed awkwardly between the four injured limbs. It glanced back at the woman before his eyes seemed to land behind her to the only sleeping resident of the cave. The teacher took a protective step forwards, blocking the Take Over wizard's view. Another rolling growl left its huge white teeth, bowing his head in reluctant defeat before turning on its hind legs and bounding away back into the snow.

Gray crept forwards, watching the huge beast for as long as possible until it disappeared completely from sight. His head was swimming, trying to process exactly what he had seen and how it slotted into the turbulent emotions that were already pushing through his body. The only thing that it had achieved was making him exhausted, all the remaining adrenaline in his body spent up as he wrapped himself tighter into his blankets. "I-I don't… understand…" he murmured under his breath.

Ur was beside him, watching over him with the judgemental eyes and quickly assessing for any lasting damage. Her hand was on his forehead, brushing back his messy black hair. "You've been having nightmares," she informed him, her voice surprisingly soft as it whispered through the night air.

Gray frowned, leaning against her hand. Nightmares sounded right. Everything blurred together into broken symbols, growling beasts and pounding fear. His memories, terrors and imaginations merged together as his eyes lost the strength to stay open. "Nightmares…" he repeated under his breath, leaning closer into the outreached hand and toppling into the woman's lap. He felt her suddenly tense, but the warmth was so inviting he couldn't bring himself to move away. Nightmares sounded about right. He would wake up in the morning and he would be back in his bed, the sun beaming down and melting the snow just enough to make muddy slides across the village paths. He pulled himself into a tighter ball, fighting the darkness he could feel creeping into the edges of his blurred delusion. His eyes closed tightly, murmuring under his breath about fighting the cruel demons of his dreams.

Eventually, a hand was placed against his thick, dark hair. His eyelids flickered for a moment, flinching at the unexpected touch, but as he felt the rhythmical brushing his breathing finally began to soften until the exhaustion could finally take him.

* * *

 **I... am so done... with this chapter... 6 times I proofread this. 2 weeks from "finished" to finished. I am just going to cry in a corner now (and after all this, you might too!)**

 **Please R &R. It genuinely helps me find the motivation through these difficult chapters and in general.**

 **(Fun fact; they're eating Kendal Mint Cake, which is a local delicacy which is commonly used by mountaineers and was used to help climb Mt Everest - when I told my friend about this she just said 'well Erza would be disappointed its not cake!' hehe)**


	4. Ur Finds Home

Ur Finds Home

Ur's fingers wrapped between the dark hair, staring into the distance. She may have looked cool and composed on the outside, but it was all an act. It was impossible to tell who it was an act for, hearing the soft breathing of both young boys and feeling Gray's rising and falling chest against her knees. She knew that while she had company, she was alone. Her head tilted back, resting against the jagged side of the cave wall. The things that she had seen today would twist through her soul for the rest of the life. She had seen death, destruction, ash and the unleashing of demons before, but she had never seen anything like the devastation of Deliora's wake. It marked the land, huge black scars stretching beneath them that had once been towns. This wasn't an animal that ate until its hunger was satisfied, or a natural disaster which consumed forests and lives equally. The giant creature had been led by blood and fuelled by horror.

Gray murmured under his breath and she realised that she had turned stiff and cold. Lost in her thoughts she had accidentally gripped his hair. Now she was correcting her mistake and going back to the tender motion of brushing it back. She tried to utter soft shushing and comforting words but her mouth was too dry. Every terrifying moment that she had seen of the Book of Zeref, the boy resting against her had felt. It was truly a miracle he was still alive but a tragedy that he experienced it all.

Ur couldn't sleep. It was hypocritical after every lecture she had given to Lyon about respecting the wasteland and always being at full strength, especially when she was the self-appointed protector of the two unfortunate boys, but she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes and break the strength that she had been portraying. The nightmares Gray was obviously already fighting would no doubt be lurking at the back of her own mind, ready to pounce as soon as she was at her most vulnerable. Instead she distracted herself by watching the sky bleed red, illuminating her land one acre at a time. The sunrise was to her back and she was reluctant to move to get a better view and disturb the children, content instead to watch the Western world unveil itself.

Somewhere far, far in the distance was a world of warmth, a world where roses bloomed freely. There were countries with borders which dictated who you could love and who you should fight, what you should feel proud of and what you should defend. Isvan had no such loyalties, but the concept of Isvan was a strange one. Ur remembered as a child she was always taught that Isvan literally translated as 'home', and that somewhere along the line their land had decided to denote it as a name for a country, a town or even just a single house in the middle of the mountains. It was small wonder that there were few cartographers in these parts, especially with the ever-changing landscape where it wasn't so unusual for the cities to uproot in the time it took to travel to one side of the map to the other.

The town below, though Ur was ashamed to say she didn't even know its true name, was one of the more stable. It had been there for at least thirty years and the solid structures were starting to be considered as permanent homes. It reminded her so much of her own town, the images she saw twisting through memories and painting a picture of what might have been, and what very much still could be.

She didn't turn immediately when she heard Lyon wake. He had been so silent she was confident that he hadn't heard the Take Over wizard's arrival, but she glanced across the snow quickly to make sure that the snow tiger wasn't hidden in the folds of the earth. The Ice Makers were alone.

Lyon quietly came beside her, taking one glance at the sleeping boy in her lap and turning away. Ur had to smile to herself, knowing that Lyon must have thought he was skilfully hiding his jealousy. She had learned from their months together that he wasn't like the little girl she once had, he was far more proud and she wasn't even convinced he was like any normal child. It wasn't surprising after all he had been through, but while she had been proud of the progress he had made so far there was emotional support she couldn't offer him which he sorely needed.

He walked to the side of the cave wall, looking to the sky instead of the dark marks below. "It'll snow," he commented.

Ur nodded, proud that he had already learned the tell-tale signs. "It's the ash," she told him, lifting her hand to the air. "When there's a fire or disaster, the ash rises into the sky and the clouds grows heavy. It will be black snow, for a while, but then eventually, all of this, will disappear into white…" she said slowly, her words controlled but halting. Her eyes kept on the damaged landscape below, on the home of the child she held and all the bodies they had seen, the cold glitter of determination powering her through her speech of hope. "The land has a way of healing itself and has been doing so for thousands of years. Long before humans, demons, maybe even gods. The same way that the nettle and the dock leaf are always found together; a pain is often followed by a relief if you can find it."

Lyon stayed silent for long moments, soaking in the words. She could only hope that he could understand them in the most difficult of times. While the sleeping child in her lap had been through hell, she knew that Gray was still a stranger and there was little that could be done for him in the next few days. Lyon was her student and her responsibility, and she had once again betrayed him. She had promised to return him to his parents but failed. More than failed, she had actively prevented their reunion, but she hadn't felt the slightest part of guilt for her protection. With his eyes pinned to the landscape below, however, she was starting to doubt herself and wondered if he had seen a flicker of white fur or overheard the growls of a lost parent in his dreams.

Eventually, the child turned back around, but instead of looking to his master his eyes were pinned to the boy lying on her. "I don't trust him," he said stiffly.

Ur glanced down, genuinely curious by Lyon's reaction. "Don't trust him?" she asked casually, trying to guess what about the orphan could be seen as untrustworthy.

Lyon stepped closer, looking down at the new rival and instantly judging. "I just don't," he said, "He can't even handle the cold."

Ur had to stop herself from smiling. She didn't even know if Lyon was aware of how ridiculous his jealousy sounded. Even if Lyon didn't always act like a normal child, there would occasionally be moments like these where there was an instant reminder and she almost expected him to stomp his feet and throw a tantrum. It was healthy, at least, which is what lifted her spirits, though looking down at Gray she realised why Lyon was complaining. She moved the hand from his dark hair to his forehead, feeling his skin. "He's quite warm," she informed him. Her blanket wasn't exactly thick or warming but he had wrapped himself into a tight ball and was pressed close against the Ice Maker. "Did you consider that perhaps he isn't shivering because of the cold?" she asked Lyon gently.

Lyon's eyes went wide and instantly fell into a frown, turning away. It was a mixture of embarrassment and shame, though the proud new Ice Maker would never have admitted it. He sat on the floor heavily, his arms crossed over his chest. "You still haven't even said what we're going to do with him," he muttered under his breath.

Ur tilted her head, more curious now. Lyon was hurting and the reward that he had received for making the right choice was, in his eyes, so pitiful he almost wanted to throw it back. He hadn't yet seen the worth of the life he had saved, even if it was only one, but that wasn't something Ur could force him to believe in. "What makes you think that that's my decision?" she asked him.

Lyon paused. Eventually he turned back to her, searching her eyes for some hint of a joke. "Isn't it?" he asked.

Ur shook her head, a kind smile written across her face. "Not necessarily. You were the one who saved him, after all. I just found him. You were the one who took us on that path, you were the one who took us to that village, you were the one who pulled him from the rubble," she said, hearing the tiny whimper from the sleeping boy and going back to brushing his hair. "What do you think should be done with him?"

Lyon couldn't speak. He looked between his master and the boy, wondering what could possibly be the right thing to do. He had the same look in his eyes that he had whenever Ur asked a question about his books, a contemplation with the fear that it was a trick question. "Is he still hurt?" he asked, scrambling for more time and information to fuel his response.

Ur shrugged her shoulders. "Physically? I don't know," she admitted, unsure what injuries may have been drowned in nausea and hidden by shock. He hadn't been able to feel the pain from his ankle until hours afterwards, it was more than possible there were other parts of his body similarly hurt. "Either way, I expect it'll take a long time for him to recover from this," she frowned.

Hesitantly, Lyon leaned forwards, watching him carefully. He swallowed, looking up at Ur. "He needs someone to take care of him," he said, looking expectedly to see if that was the correct answer.

She nodded. "Of course, every child does," she said knowingly, wishing almost for a moment that Lyon would lean in closer, but whether by his own pride or his reluctance to be close to the new boy, he stayed back. "But you know how unforgiving the land is, how difficult it is for orphans."

He nodded obediently and the way that his eyes glazed over told her that he had made the connection. They had travelled the world for many months now, especially to the places that had been devastated by demons, and Gray was unfortunately not the first orphan of the land, nor would he be the last. The lost children never made it far. It wasn't that the people of Isvan didn't have the heart to save the children but most struggled just to look after themselves in the unforgiving wasteland and the orphan's numbers were growing, even after the cold stole many of their young lives. Some were lucky enough to find kind families but most either became lone wanderers with a typically short path, or they gathered together, becoming bandits praying on the nearest cross-roads before the ruthless soldiers of Isvan would take them into their harsh punishment. Lyon knew all this, he had seen it with his own eyes, and it made his answers even more difficult. "We should… see if anyone can take care of him. In the town. Where we can keep an eye on him," he said eventually with a frown.

Ur smiled, instantly proud. She wasn't hopeful that they would be able to find anyone that could care for him, but Lyon had at least met her half way. She could feel the magic emanating from the new boy; raw and wild and so different to that which she had felt from Lyon all those months ago, but knew that he had the potential to use it the same way if he desired. She could see clearly what was going to happen, but didn't force it upon her only student in the hopes he would eventually open to the idea himself.

The sun grew high in the sky before they considered moving, both Ice Makers in agreement that their new companion should be allowed to sleep for as long as possible. As Lyon predicted, the morning was lost in snow and they all knew it might well be the last time Gray could sleep for several weeks after what they had seen. Lyon attempted to question Ur on her own sleep but she insisted that she was fine and lied that she had received more than she had. It was difficult to fight her tiredness with such warmth on her legs and being completely unable to move, but every time that she felt her eyes closing she could see the flashes of blood and death, reminding her that her dreams would only hold worse.

Eventually, the boy woke. They took their time with him, voices low and soothing and ready for him to suddenly break. He had a distant look in his eyes as they spoke to him and more than once Ur and Lyon exchanged worried glances as he stayed completely silent through their explanations and instructions. With Lyon's earlier reminder, Ur carefully checked him for further injuries. She found his ankle had swollen during the night and quickly placed an iced cast over it, and his chest had angry black bruises, but other than this there seemed to be little more than she had seen before. He had been exceptionally lucky.

As she checked him over and Lyon offered his own spare warmer clothing, the dark-haired boy continued to stare at Ur with his huge brown eyes. She continually looked back to Lyon, speaking softly and explaining who the white-haired boy was, but Gray only looked at her. She wondered if he was trying to decide what was dream or reality, or if there was an instinct for the child to attach himself towards the closest adult. Reluctantly she tried to be patient and use her new authoritative power to lead him forwards. When he stood staring dumbly with the clothes in his hands, she was able to force him to change. When he wouldn't eat, she commanded him to do so and he did. He was lost, following instructions when clear in front of him but unable to process even basic functions as his mind reeled in pain.

They had already lost many hours of sunlight and the days weren't exactly long to begin with, so once they were in position they all decided to move with haste. The dark-haired boy stood awkwardly, wincing in pain as he put pressure on the twisted ankle, barely blinking as he felt the other child throw his arm over his shoulder and take the additional weight without question. The new boy just stared up at Ur, as if waiting for approval.

Ur twisted her mouth, staring at the pair of them. She felt pride for her kind-hearted student but knew that Lyon was the sort who would not take the lack of appreciation well. The new child had only Lyon's generosity to thank but it felt as if he hadn't even looked at him once. She turned away, feeling the lost gaze still burning on the back of her head but starting to walk forwards. "We'll find something we can turn into a walking stick," she said into the horizon, beginning the long walk home.

They stumbled forwards awkwardly through the rough terrain, the elder boy doing his best to pull up his new companion and hissing under his breath as Gray didn't pay attention to the ground he stepped on. Lyon was losing his patience quickly and Ur had none of her own to offer them. It didn't take long for the boy to fall, a painful hiss through his teeth as he held onto his ankles. Lyon frowned angrily, ready to run off into the distance and desert the life he had saved. One lifted eyebrow from Ur, however, and he stopped, folding his arms across his chest.

"I need to… go back…" the boy muttered. They had been some of the first words he'd spoken all day.

Ur and Lyon both looked at each other, and back to the child. "Go back?" Lyon barked, all sympathy gone with his patience. "Why? There's nothing there!"

The boy kept his head down, holding onto his ankle and remaining painfully still. "I need to stop him," he said, his words shaking. "I need to stop Deliora."

"Are you insane?! Didn't you see the size of that thing?!" Lyon shouted, his hands gripped into fists and legs spread apart, looking as if ready to fight rather than offer an ounce of comfort.

Gray finally shook. His entire body shivered, the cold wet snow soaking into his borrowed clothes and freezing the tears running down his cheeks. His voice was so filled with pain that it almost sounded hollow, devoid of life and joy and lacking the strength it promised. "I don't care," he whispered. "I have to try. I have to stop it. I won't stop until I can kill it."

"You're insane!" Lyon shouted loudly, stomping his foot against soft snow and flattening the ground around him. "You're insane, you know that? There's no way you can take on something like that! Look at you. You can't even stand!"

Gray's head stayed down, the silence speaking volumes as his hopelessness swallowed his words.

Ur's hand slowly went to Lyon's shoulder. She could feel that he had stopped his yelling, felt the tension in his shoulder and knew that her calming touch only sped the change that was already happening. Lyon's angry shivering was turning back to calm resolve, his red blur fading as he once again saw the crumpled child lying in the snow. Ur hoped that he could see what she did, see the image of the white-haired boy braving the storm with the determination of strength, now imprinted over the dark-haired child. She wasn't sure if it was compassion or empathy but when she released her hand from Lyon and he stepped forwards, his hands were forming one of his Ice Make symbols. Well, _one hand_ , but she wasn't going to scold him about that right now. Twisting the cold magic through his fingertips, he finally grasped the long ice stick, holding it out in front of him as he stepped forwards.

Hearing only silence, Gray eventually looked up, staring at the boy and the gift before him. He stared at the ice in confusion for some time, a frown falling against his features, and eventually looked back at Ur. Though Ur couldn't see Lyon's face, she was certain it would be one of frustration, and quickly nodded and gestured for Gray to look back to Lyon. He did so, quickly reaching up and touching the stick. His hand recoiled for a brief moment against the frozen temperature, before grasping the cold material and pulling it closer, pressing the sharp end towards the ground and dragging himself up to his feet.

"I'm not carrying you anymore, you can look after yourself," Lyon hissed, turning quickly away and stubbornly continuing his walk back.

Ur sighed. It would take a lot more work for the two to see eye to eye, she realised as she too turned around and began to walk slowly, listening out for the shuffling of their smallest companion following behind. She could hear the hesitation and struggles, feel the constant gaze against her back, but was comforted as she could hear his steady moving forwards. In front of her she could also see Lyon holding back his angry pacing, taking longer routes even as he disappeared into the depths of the mountain passes, taking his time to allow both Master and orphan to keep up. He was still determined to go some distance ahead, keeping back even from Ur in his frustration, but when faced with difficult terrain he would race ahead and take multiple routes before turning back, instructing the quickest way. Ur knew that the quality of the land would make no difference to her own path but it would make the world of difference to the injured boy, but didn't speak her observations aloud.

The sun began to sink and they were still some way from their home, or even their closest town. As Ur watched the landscape with her keen eyes she guessed at their current pace it would probably take another five hours to reach their town with an additional hour to their home – longer if they travelled through the darkness. Gray was catching up to her, becoming tired but growing more skilled at using his walking stick. Lyon, however, was no-where to be seen and a frown fell on her face as she realised she hadn't seen him for some time. "Lyon?" she called out. She took several steps forward, regaining the gap between her and the new boy in her haste. "Lyon!"

The bitter cold met her words in silence for a long time, before she finally saw a flash of movement through the darkness. "I'm here," Lyon called out, his white-hair camouflaging him against the winding dunes of snow. "I've found somewhere for us to stay tonight."

Ur breathed out in relief, walking up to her student and putting her hand against his head. "Thank you," she whispered to him, turning back to the new boy as he hobbled closer. "I was going to suggest the same. We won't get far in the dark."

"You should always avoid travelling unfamiliar ground in the dark," Lyon recited.

Ur smiled, glad for the reminder that this was her diligent student and wondering if that was his intention, or perhaps he was trying to show her that he was the favoured boy. "Indeed," she nodded. "We should gather things for a fire-"

"I already have," Lyon said confidently, already running back, eager to show off his preparations. "Come on, this way!"

Ur was quietly impressed as she walked forwards, finally allowing the second boy to stand by her side as she put her hand on his back, leading him into the new dwelling. A fire wasn't something that they would often spend a lot of effort on unless it had been a particularly wet night and they needed to dry their clothes, as Ur hadn't felt the cold in many years and Lyon was quickly growing accustomed to the new feeling of ice from inside him. Gray's clothes were still wet from kneeling against the ground hours earlier, however, and his shivering was now not entirely dependent on his mental state.

As soon as the new orphan saw the flicker of flames he ran forwards, throwing himself to his knees and putting his hands against the warming glow. He stared into the red flame, eyes glazed and completely silent to the world as he became lost in the reds and oranges dancing around before him. Lyon loudly scoffed, rolling his eyes and giving Ur a sideways look as if that was an explanation why the newcomer was clearly inferior. Ur chose not to remind Lyon how he had curled up to the flames the first day that they had met, instead walking to the fireside and soaking up the unusual warmth.

It was more comforting than she had expected, pulling off her jacket and placing it over the dark-haired boy's shoulders and stretching, enjoying the feeling of the fire flickering against her frozen skin. Lyon was standing stubbornly far from the fire, staring at them both as if betrayed that she should take enjoyment from their contrasting element, but with her smiles and gentle gestures he eventually caved and sat down by the fire himself, folding his arms across his chest and refusing to admit he was soaking in the warmth.

As Gray continued to stare into the fire, finally averting his constant attention from the elder Ice Maker, Ur leaned closer. "Gray, you should thank Lyon."

Gray's eyes stayed forwards, his mouth closed.

Ur's eyes were now trained on him, frowning deeply. She knew that she needed to be careful with the traumatised child but it didn't feel right that he was allowed to be so disrespectful. She could feel Lyon tensing without even looking at him. "Gray, Lyon has done a lot for you. It's only right that you should thank him," she continued, her voice steady and stern.

Gray's dazed gaze turned into a glare, though the target remained the same as he stared into the firepit. "You can't tell me what to do," he muttered, pulling his knees close to his chest.

Lyon quickly stood, anger flooding his eyes. "Don't speak to Master Ur like that!" he cried out, finally losing all self-restraint and kicking hard against the younger boy's shoulder.

The anger was quickly returned. Something raw and pain-filled flooded Gray's eyes as he seemed to suddenly spring to life, pushed back by the sudden assault from his elder but pinning himself down low to the ground and leaping forwards in retaliation. He let out a strangled cry as he flung himself wildly back at the white-haired boy, who was only to eager to throw fists and his own frustrated cries.

Ur, unused to the stubborn violence of young boys, stared in disbelief as the two wrestled each other to the ground, seemingly forgetting all injury and remorse as they hurled punch after kick to each other's battered bodies. They were wild animals, rolling into a blur of black and white and creating blue bruises with every strike. "Lyon! Gray!" she called sternly, throwing glares in both directions.

They seemed deaf to her cries, lost in their anger and desire to fight, regardless of the target. They were pouring unbelievable energy into their attacks even after the long and difficult day's wear, more awake and alive than ever as they tore at each other with passionate fury. The elder Ice Maker watched them both, unable to comprehend just where this raw and dangerous energy had come from between them, panic rising inside of her before stepping forwards and throwing her hands on both of their shoulders, forcefully dragging them apart. They continued to try and push forwards, glaring at one another and growling like beasts, before eventually calming into hate-filled heavy breathing.

In unison, Ur brought her fist against both of their heads, knocking them both further back as they rubbed their newest injury painfully. "Both of you, that's enough!" she hissed at them, disappointment in her eyes as she stared at the young boys, but even more so to her own student. "What are you, savages?!"

They both muttered angrily, whispers of 'he started it' and 'he had it coming' under their both breaths. Gray was the first one to turn away, leaning down and pulling the blanket out of Ur's open backpack, turning to the far corner of the camp. He stormed away, sitting in stubborn silence and wrapping himself into a tight ball within the blanket. Lyon's eyes pinned to him the entire time he walked away, gritting his teeth and gripping his fists tightly.

"Lyon, I expect better of you," Ur reminded her student swiftly.

Lyon looked up at Ur quickly, mouth open wide as he suddenly remembered his place before her. "I-he-I-"

"I don't want to hear any excuses," Ur warned him, pressing her fingers against her brow and massaging out the growing headache. Lyon had disappointed her, his actions against the injured and traumatised boy shattering any belief she had that Gray and Lyon could be a positive influence on one another. She had hoped that things would be easier than this, that Lyon would be able to see the good in the decision he had made sooner rather than later, but the two boys had seemingly already pronounced each other as enemies. It was clear to her now that she wouldn't be able to keep them both together for long and the quicker they found an alternative home for Gray the better.

Her disappointment was hurting her student, she knew that much from his irritated silence. She knew that it was cruel to leave him feeling in such a way after the years of torment from his neglectful parents, but Ur had always vowed that she would never again be a mother. She needed to stay resilient, to be the guiding voice of right and wrong and the inspiration to aspire to great things, but she could not be the comforting defender that Lyon needed. Perhaps it wouldn't have been a bad thing to find a home for him too, she thought for a flickering moment, but one glance back told her that she would have difficulty trusting anyone else take care of him. He was difficult, trapped in his own obsessions and determinations which both shielded and empowered a kind heart. She couldn't risk him losing everything again.

The camp remained in an awkward silence for the remainder of the night. The fire burned out without attention within a couple of hours, but no one seemed to notice as the last of the embers faded into black. Ur eventually passed around food rations, putting them into each of the boy's hands with a stern look. Neither argued against her, both taking small bites and remaining still.

It was hard to tell who slept that night. Ur lay on her back, staring at the dark ceiling and convincing herself that tonight she required some rest, her chest rising and falling shakily as she stole herself for the nightmares about to come. Closing her eyes was difficult, focussing on the sounds of the children breathing beside her and trying to sink into uneasy slumber.

"You really are insane," she heard Lyon mutter under his breath as her breathing began to calm, not daring to open her eyes when she had spent so long trying to bring herself to the edge of sleep.

"Whatever," Gray murmured, the sounds of his blanket shuffling loudly against the still night.

There was a pause for a moment and Ur wondered if they had fallen asleep until she once again heard her student's voice. "You can't take on that thing," he said, his voice edging closer and the slightest tremble of concern racing through it. "Its power is-"

"I don't care," Gray said suddenly. Ur had to force herself not to frown in her feigned sleep, realising that his voice was clear enough even through his whispers that he was very much awake and probably standing. "I have to try."

"You're doing it _wrong_ ," Lyon hissed. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to train to take on a demon like Deliora?"

Gray was suddenly silenced. The chill in the air was still enough for Ur to be certain the youngest boy had not even taken the smallest step forwards. "People can train to take on these demons?"

Lyon shuffled closer to the second voice. "You'd be stupid not to. How much of an idiot _are_ you?"

The silence returned. Ur listened carefully, barely able to breath as she tried to keep her body quiet enough to hear the outcome of the dispute. She wanted to wake suddenly, to hit them both across the head once more for acting so bitterly towards each other and even talking about taking on such an impossibly dangerous task, but before she could muster her strength she heard the familiar brush of her blanket against the rough floor. The boy slumped back to the ground, taking some time to twist the blankets back around himself. "Whatever," he said eventually.

Ur suppressed a sigh. It felt as if the two would never speak a kind word to each other if they couldn't even do so when they both desperately needed it. She turned herself onto her side, pulling her body into its own tight ball and trying to remember exactly why she had fought her need to rest for so long.

It didn't take long for her to remember. She woke with a start, sweat dripping down her frozen forehead. Her heart raced quickly, the dark world in front of her spinning and memories of twisted bodies and ashen remains cackling through the shadows. She struggled to catch her breath, hand on her hand and trying to gasp for air quickly. Her first thought was the children. She needed to be strong for them, needed to fight the terror that was gripping her bones and hide the vulnerability of their protector. She looked back, watching the two tight bundles on either side of the camp. Neither moved and she told herself that they were either sleeping or allowing her to believe they were.

Eventually she sank back down onto the ground, pressing her cheek against the cold mountainous rock and trying to draw her courage from the familiar chill. She was shaking, a fear that she had not thought she was capable of pinning her to the ground. She thought that without her daughter there would be no harm this world could possibly inflict upon her, but the destruction of Deliora stung her deep. The town had felt so very like her own, the smell of death and fire filling her nightmares. The ruthless power of the demonic beast was far beyond anything she had ever encountered, reminding her that she was only human.

She didn't dare close her eyes until daylight. The three all stirred so unanimously with the daybreak Ur was without doubt the boys had been awake for some time, just as she had. She accepted the chance to move quickly, standing and beginning her day with snapping orders to tidy the camp and eat before the day's journey. The two agreed with minimal complaint, moving with urgency to escape the night and finally begin the new dawn.

The night's rest and the ice cast had calmed the swelling of Gray's ankle considerably, and as the journey towards the town began to fall into familiar territory their steps became quicker. Lyon stayed closer to the others on the second day, able to recite from memory the poor paths and the shortcuts through his familiar land. Gray accepted the instructions obediently, led by the elder Ice Makers and finally concentrating on what was in front of him. Occasionally Ur would glance back to him and see him stumble, lost in his own thoughts, but it became clear that he was trying to fight against them and focus on the path in front of him. The journey went quickly because of this, the five hours travel that she had expected leading them to the city before it had even struck midday.

Lyon's steps became in line with his master's as the ground once again turned to cobblestones and the familiar scents and sounds of the town filled the air. "Do you think we'll find someone?" he asked her, turning to Ur expectedly.

Ur knew exactly what Lyon meant; Gray's new home and guardian had been on her own mind too. She remembered Lyon's wishes for it to be close enough for Lyon to keep an eye on the new orphan and could only hope that he kept at least a part of that sentiment when they found a suitable home for him. "I have an idea," she told her student, leading their way through the winding streets. She pulled on her backpack, releasing a small purse from the side and tossing a few coins in Lyon's direction. "It's nearly midday, the inn should be serving lunch anytime now. Why don't you take Gray and get yourself something nice?"

Lyon stared at the coin, his eyes growing wide in excitement. The piping hot meals from the local inn were a rare and delightful treat, one even worth putting up with Gray to experience. "Come on, Gray!" he said, grabbing onto the dark-haired boy and dragging him down the street. "They've got chocolate cake and everything!"

Gray kept staring at Ur, his wide eyes burying into the Ice Maker as he was dragged away by the eager young apprentice.

Even as Gray disappeared from sight Ur could still feel his stare. She didn't move for a long time, watching the alleyway and trying to fight the sudden image of Gray becoming one of the lost children. She had seen their faces before, pale but covered with black dirt, a glaze in their eyes that far surpassed their young age. The broken glaze was something she saw in Gray's own eyes they had stared back at her, puncturing her soul and filling her with a desperate need to fix him. His childhood was still between his fingers but ready to slip through his grasp at a moment's notice. With a heavy sigh, she began to walk in the opposite direction, her hands deep in her pockets.

Every child deserved a loving family. She told herself this as she pushed deeper against the lining of her coat pocket, gritting her teeth. She closed her eyes tightly, reminding herself that she would find a good home for Gray. The woman in mind was sweet and caring with two of her own boys already and she had already expressed her concerns for Lyon and hinted towards an open offer of mothering. She had a warming home, a loving husband, a corner shop that brought stability and steady wealth.

 _"Please, please take her I'm begging you!"_

Ur stopped, gripping her hands so tightly that she could feel her nails drawing blood.

 _"She has a fever, she has too much magical energy. Please I'm begging you, if there's anything that can be done to help her, take her!"_

She hissed to herself, storming past her memories with a passionate fury. She didn't need the reminder. This was nothing like that day, this was not her own flesh and blood. This was not her baby girl, helpless and resting in her arms with a terrible sickness. This was a boy, a defenceless boy, and she was helping him.

 _"Help her, please…!"_

"Ur?" Ur blinked herself from her memories, catching a tear on her eyelashes before it had time to fall. Her friend was standing before her, tilting her head as concern filled her eyes. Ur was hissing a curse under her breath but the woman's soft words quickly washed it away. "I'm so glad you're here," she told her, stepping forwards and taking her hands in hers. "I've heard terrible rumours of a demon to the South. They say it's-it's Deliora," she said, her words shivering.

Ur glanced away, feeling the fear in her words and knowing that the innocent shop-worker before her couldn't possibly understand the terror that they had escaped. "It is," she said slowly.

"Oh my…" the lady put a hand on her lips, her eyes wide and filled with genuine care. "Were there many injured?"

If it wasn't so heart-breaking, her gross understatement may have been funny. The horror of Deliora's wake was no laughing matter. Feeling a chill strike her body at the mention of the beast, Ur nodded quickly. "Only one survivor. A young boy, Gray."

The woman's lip trembled but she carefully clasped her hands tightly around Ur's once more, bringing her forward and leading her into the house. "I heard that you had brought home another young boy," she said slowly, leading Ur through the building and ignoring the loud shrieking of her own two boys causing havoc in the other room. "You seem to be building up quite the collection of handsome young boys, don't you think?" she smiled, pulling out a chair for Ur to sit in.

Hesitantly, Ur took the offered seat, scratching her head as her words became stuck on her tongue. "It hasn't exactly been intentional…"

"Of course not!" the woman continued, fluttering around the small kitchen and filling the kettle obediently. She pulled on mugs and placed them in front of her, not even waiting for a request from the Ice Maker as she began to busy herself with her hospitality. "Poor thing, it must have been awful for him. And Lyon too, I suppose. Both of them without a family, or a real home."

Ur gritted her teeth, suddenly defensive. "Lyon has a home."

"Oh, well, yes…" the woman quickly stammered. Though she didn't fear Ur in the way that many quivered under her power, it was clear that the dark-haired woman's reputation for being impatient and brash was not unfounded. "He has your home, I suppose. It isn't the same as having a family, though. Still, I suppose the two of them together will be good for each other. I expect that the new one – what was his name again?"

"Gray"

"Gray, yes, I think that having Gray around will be good for him. You know that I don't mind being honest with you, of course, and you know that Lyon doesn't exactly play well with others," she said, being sure to pour the hot water at that exact moment to avoid Ur's sudden angry outburst. Ur may have been short tempered but it didn't mean that she couldn't contain herself if it meant putting her friends in danger. "Having another boy around his own age will do him the world of good, and if this new boy has been through what you say he has I expect it will do him some good too."

Although the woman's words were true and moving, Ur struggled to concentrate on them. Weaved between her lyrical voice were the shouts and screeches of the boys in the other room. The friend before her seemed less than concerned with their cries but a deep maternal instinct buried deep inside of Ur, distracting her from everything but the sounds of young distress. "Shouldn't you be seeing if they're alright…?" Ur asked.

The woman looked perplexed before finally realising that the Ice Maker was talking about her children and then she just laughed. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about them. They're just fighting. I swear, I would be more worried if they were quiet," she chuckled to herself. "Doesn't Lyon get into many fights?"

Ur leaned back in her seat. The new hot drink was placed into her hand and she stared at the growing steam. "I suppose he's starting to," she said softly, a realisation growing gently inside of her. Lyon had been acting more like a child these last two days than he had in months, despite his trauma and the horrors that they had seen. He may not have been always good, considerate or well behaved, but something about that revelation was uplifting and filled Ur with a strange new hope.

The woman smiled kindly. "I'm sure with Gray around you'll be used to it in no time. Oh, but here I am blathering away. Did you come here for a reason?"

The room seemed to hang in silence. There had been a reason, a perfectly valid reason. She gripped the mug with both hands, leaning closer. "It was nothing important," she smiled to herself. "Just perhaps a little advice on taking care of two young boys."

* * *

 **This chapter was much easier than the last...!**

 **I'm finding this story quite difficult, so this may actually be the last chapter. If it is, I feel like its left in quite a nice place. If not, we'll see more.**

 **I appreciate all the reviews and feedback and everything :)**


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